BARBARAS  HERITAGE 

OR 

YOUNG  AMERICANS  AMONG 
THE  OLD  ITALIAN  MASTERS 


_ 


DERISTHE  L.HOYT 


BARBARA'S   HERITAGE 


VIRGIN.     FROM   ASSUMPTION    OF  THE   VIRGIN. 


BARBARA'S  HERITAGE 


OR 


YOUNG    AMERICANS    AMONG     THE     OLD 
ITALIAN  MASTERS 


BY       '  - 

L£l/l*ffC 

DERISTHE   L.   HOYT 

AUTHOR  OF 

"THE  WORLD'S  PAINTERS" 
THIRD  EDITION. 


BOSTON  AND   CHICAGO 
W.  A-  WILDE   COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1899, 
BY  W.  A.  WILDE  COMPANY. 

All  rights  reserved. 


BARBARA'S    HERITAGE. 


2To  t!)£  Brother  ant)  Sister  into  baiJf  6een  mg 
campaniona  touring  tnang  fjappg  gojourna  in 
Etalg. 


2130009 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PACK 

I.  THE  UNEXPECTED  HAPPENS         .        .        .13 

II.    ACROSS  Two  OCEANS 29 

III.  IN  BEAUTIFUL  FLORENCE      ....      45 

IV.  A  NEW  FRIEND  APPEARS  61 
V.  STRAWS  SHOW  WHICH  WAY  THE  WIND  BLOWS      77 

VI.    LUCILE  SHERMAN 93 

VII.  A  STARTLING  DISCLOSURE    ....     107 

VIII.  HOWARD'S  QUESTIONINGS      .        .        .        .123 

IX.  THE  COMING-OUT  PARTY      ....    139 

X.  THE  MYSTERY  UNFOLDS  TO  HOWARD  .        .157 

XI.  ON  THE  WAY  TO  ROME        .        .        .        .171 

XII.  ROBERT  SUMNER  FIGHTS  A  BATTLE     .        .189 

XIII.  CUPID  LAUGHS 205 

XIV.  A  VISIT  TO  THE   SlSTINE  CHAPEL  .  .221 

XV.  A  MORNING  IN  THE  VATICAN       .        .        .    239 

XVI.  POOR  BARBARA'S  TROUBLE  ....    259 

XVII.  ROBERT  SUMNER  is  IMPRUDENT    .        .        .    279 

XVIII.    IN  VENICE 299 

XIX.    IN  A  GONDOLA 317 

XX.    RETURN  FROM  ITALY 335 

EPILOGUE:  THREE  YEARS  AFTER        .  355 

7 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

VIRGIN.    FROM  ASSUMPTION  OF  THE  VIRGIN.    TITIAN. 

Academy,  Venice Frontispiece 

BYZANTINE  MAGDALEN.  PACK 

Academy  Florence 58 

GROUP   OF   ANGELS.     FROM    CORONATION   OF  THE  VIRGIN. 
FRA  ANGELICO. 

Uffizi  Gallery,  Florence 112 

CORONATION  OF  THE  VIRGIN.    BOTTICELLI. 

Uffizi  Gallery,  Florence     .......     146 

HEAD  OF  MADONNA.    PERUGINO. 

Uffizi  Gallery,  Florence 186 

THE  DELPHIAN  SIBYL.    MICHAEL  ANGELO. 

Sistine  Chapel,  Rome 226 

SAINT  CECILIA.     RAPHAEL. 

Academy,  Bologna 296 

MARRIAGE  OF  SAINT  CATHERINE.    Lumi. 

Poldi-Pezzoli  Museum,  Milan 350 

8 


ILLUSTRATIONS    IN   TEXT. 

Pen  and  Ink  Drawings  made  by  Homer  W.  Colby. 

PACK 

BARBARA'S  HOME 15 

A  BIT  OF  GENOA .31 

CHURCH  OF  THE  ANNUNZIATA,  FLORENCE  ....  47 

DUOMO  AND  CAMPANILE,  FLORENCE 63 

SANTA  MARIA  NOVELLA,  FLORENCE 79 

A  GLIMPSE  OF  FLORENCE 95 

CLOISTER,  MUSEUM  OF  SAN  MARCO,  FLORENCE  .        .        .  109 

PONTE  ALLA  CARRAJA,  FLORENCE 125 

PALAZZO  PITTI,  FLORENCE 141 

SAN  MINIATO  AL  MONTE,  FLORENCE 159 

ORVIETO  CATHEDRAL 173 

SAN  FRANCESCO,  ASSISI 191 

RUINS  OF  FORUM,  ROME 207 

SAINT  PETER'S  AND  CASTLE  OF  SAINT  ANGELO,  ROME       .  223 
LOGGIA  OF  RAPHAEL,  VATICAN,  ROME         .        .       .        .241 

A  BIT  OF  AMALFI 261 

CAM  ro  SANTO,  BOLOGNA 281 

SAN  MARCO,  VENICE 301 

GRAND  CANAL  AND  RIALTO,  VENICE 319 

MIIAN  CATHEDRAL 337 

9 


PRELUDE. 

EACH  day  the  world  is  born  anew 

For  him  who  takes  it  rightly ; 
Not  fresher  that  which  Adam  knew, 
Not  sweeter  that  whose  moonlit  dew 

Entranced  Arcadia  nightly. 

Rightly?    That's  simply :  'tis  to  see 

Some  substance  casts  these  shadows 
Which  we  call  Life  and  History, 
That  aimless  seem  to  chase  and  flee 
Like  wind-gleams  over  meadows. 

Simply  ?    That's  nobly :  'tis  to  know 

That  God  may  still  be  met  with, 
Nor  groweth  old,  nor  doth  bestow  „ 

These  senses  fine,  this  brain  aglow, 
To  grovel  and  forget  with. 

— JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 


Chapter  I. 
The  Unexpected  Happens. 


And  foortb  they    passe  with  pleasure  forward  led. 

—  SPENSER. 


BARBARAS   HOME. 


BARBARA!  do  you  think  papa  and 
mamma  will  let  us  go  ?  Can  they  afford 
it  ?  Just  to  think  of  Italy,  and  sunshine,  and  olive 
trees,  and  cathedrals,  and  pictures !  Oh,  it  makes 
me  wild !  Will  you  not  ask  them,  dear  Barbara  ? 
You  are  braver  than  I,  and  can  talk  better  about 
it  all.  How  can  we  bear  to  have  them  say  'no' 
—  to  give  up  all  the  lovely  thought  of  it,  now 
that  once  we  have  dared  to  dream  of  its  coming 
to  us  —  to  you  and  me,  Barbara?"  and  color 
flushed  the  usually  pale  cheek  of  the  young  girl, 
and  her  dark  eyes  glowed  with  feeling  as  she 
hugged  tightly  the  arm  of  her  sister. 

Barbara    and    Bettina    Burnett    were    walking 
through  a  pleasant  street  in  one  of  the  suburban 
towns  of  Boston    after  an    afternoon   spent  with 
friends  who  were  soon  to  sail  for  Italy. 
•  '5 


16  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

It  was  a  charming  early  September  evening, 
and  the  sunset  glow  burned  through  the  avenue 
of  elm  trees,  beneath  which  the  girls  were  passing, 
flooding  the  way  with  rare  beauty.  But  not  one 
thought  did  they  now  give  to  that  which,  ordina- 
rily, would  have  delighted  them  ;  for  Mrs.  Douglas 
had  astonished  them  that  afternoon  by  a  pressing 
invitation  to  accompany  herself,  her  son,  and 
daughter  on  this  journey.  For  hours  they  had 
talked  over  the  beautiful  scheme,  and  were  to  pre- 
sent Mrs.  Douglas's  request  to  their  parents  that 
very  night. 

Mrs.  Douglas,  a  wealthy  woman,  had  been  a 
widow  almost  ever  since  the  birth  of  her  daughter, 
who  was  now  a  girl  of  fifteen.  Malcom,  her  son, 
was  three  or  four  years  older.  An  artist  brother 
was  living  in  Italy,  and  a  few  years  previous  to 
the  beginning  of  our  story,  Mrs.  Douglas  and  her 
children  had  spent  some  months  there.  Now  the 
brother  was  desirous  that  they  should  again  go  to 
him,  especially  since  his  sister  was  not  strong,  and 
it  would  be  well  for  her  to  escape  the  inclemency 
of  a  New  England  winter. 

Barbara  and  Bettina, —  Bab  and  Betty,  as  they 
were  called  in  their  home,  —  twin  daughters  of 
Dr.  Burnett,  were  seventeen  years  old,  and  the 
eldest  of  a  large  family.  The  father,  a  great- 
hearted man,  devoted  to  his  noble  profession,  and 


THE  UNEXPECTED  HAPPENS.          I/ 

generous  of  himself,  his  time,  and  money,  had  little 
to  spare  after  the  wants  of  his  family  had  been 
supplied,  so  it  was  not  strange  that  the  daughters, 
on  sober  second  thought,  should  feel  that  the  idea 
of  such  a  trip  to  the  Old  World  as  Mrs.  Douglas 
suggested  could  be  only  the  dream  of  a  moment, 
from  which  an  awakening  must  be  inevitable. 

But  they  little  knew  the  wisdom  of  Mrs.  Doug- 
las, nor  for  a  moment  did  they  suspect  that  for 
weeks  before  she  had  mentioned  the  matter  to 
them,  she  and  their  parents  had  spent  many 
hours  in  planning  and  contriving  so  that  it  might 
seem  possible  to  give  this  great  pleasure  and 
means  of  education  to  their  daughters. 

Even  now,  while  they  were  hesitating  to  men- 
tion the  matter,  it  was  already  settled.  Their 
parents  had  decided  that,  with  the  aid  of  a  por- 
tion of  a  small  legacy  which  Mrs.  Burnett  had 
sacredly  set  aside  for  her  children,  to  be  used 
only  when  some  sufficient  reason  should  offer, 
enough  money  could  be  spared  during  the  coming 
year  to  allow  them  to  accompany  Mrs.  Douglas. 

As  the  sisters  drew  near  the  rambling,  old- 
fashioned  house,  set  back  from  the  street,  which 
was  their  home,  a  pleasant  welcome  awaited 
them.  The  father,  who  had  just  come  from  the 
stable  to  the  piazza.,  the  mother  and  younger 
children,  —  Richard,  Lois,  Margaret,  and  little 


1 8  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Bertie,  —  and  even  the  old  dog,  Dandy, — each 
had  an  affectionate  greeting. 

A  quick  look  of  intelligence  passed  between 
the  parents  as  they  saw  the  flushed  faces  of  their 
daughters,  which  so  plainly  told  of  unusual  ex- 
citement of  feeling;  but,  saying  nothing,  they 
quietly  led  the  way  into  the  dining  room,  where 
all  gathered  around  the  simple  supper  which 
even  the  youngest  could  enjoy. 

After  the  children  had  been  put  to  bed,  and 
the  older  ones  of  the  family  were  in  the  library, 
which  was  their  evening  sitting  room,  Bettina 
looked  anxiously  at  Barbara,  who,  after  several 
attempts,  succeeded  in  telling  the  startling  propo- 
sition which  Mrs.  Douglas  had  made,  adding  that 
she  should  not  dare  to  speak  of  it  had  she  not 
promised  Mrs.  Douglas  to  do  so. 

Imagine,  if  you  can,  the  amazement,  the  flood 
of  joyous  surprise  that  the  girls  felt  as  they 
realized,  first,  that  to  their  parents  it  was  not 
a  new,  startling  subject  which  could  not  for  a 
moment  be  entertained ;  then,  that  it  was  not 
only  to  be  thought  of,  but  planned  for;  and 
more,  that  the  going  to  Italy  with  Mrs.  Douglas, 
Malcom,  and  Margery  was  to  be  a  reality,  an 
experience  that  very  soon  would  come  into  their 
lives,  for  they  were  to  sail  in  three  weeks. 

After  the  hubbub  of  talk  that  followed,  it  was 


THE  UNEXPECTED  HAPPENS.         19 

a  very  subdued  and  quiet  pair  of  girls  who  kissed 
father  and  mother  good  night  and  went  upstairs 
to  the  room  in  which  they  had  slept  ever  since 
their  childhood.  The  certain  nearness  of  the 
first  home-breaking,  of  the  first  going  away  from 
their  dear  ones,  and  a  new  conception  of  the 
tenderness  of  the  parents,  who  were  sacrificing 
so  much  for  them,  had  taken  such  possession 
of  their  hearts  that  they  were  too  full  for  words. 
For  Barbara  and  Bettina  were  dear,  thoughtful 
daughters  and  sisters,  who  had  early  learned  to 
aid  in  bearing  the  family  burdens,  and  whose 
closest,  strongest  affections  were  bound  about  the 
home  and  its  dear  ones. 

Such  busy  days  followed!  Such  earnest  con- 
ferences between  Mrs.  Burnett  and  Mrs.  Douglas, 
who  was  an  old  traveller,  and  knew  all  the  ins 
and  outs  of  her  dear  doctor's  household ! 

It  was  finally  decided  that  the  dark  blue  serge 
gowns  that  had  been  worn  during  the  last  spring 
and  on  cold  summer  days  with  the  warm  spring 
jackets,  would  be  just  the  thing  for  the  girls  on 
the  steamship  ;  that  the  pretty  brown  cloth  suits 
which  were  even  then  in  the  dressmaker's  hands 
could  be  worn  almost  constantly  after  reaching 
Italy  for  out-of-door  life;  while  the  simple  even- 
ing gowns  that  had  done  duty  at  schoolgirl  recep- 
tions would  answer  finely  for  at-home  evenings. 


2O  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

So  that  only  two  or  three  extra  pairs  of  boots  (for 
nothing  abroad  can  take  the  place  of  American 
boots  and  shoes),  some  silk  waists,  so  convenient 
for  easy  change  of  costume,  and  a  little  addition  to 
the  dainty  underclothing  were  all  that  was  abso- 
lutely needed. 

Busy  ringers  soon  accomplished  everything  nec- 
essary, and  in  a  few  swiftly  passing  days  the 
trunks  were  packed,  the  tearful  good-bys  spoken, 
and  the  little  party  was  on  its  way  to  New  York, 
to  sail  thence  for  Genoa  on  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm  II. 
of  the  North  German  Lloyd  line  of  steamships. 

Dr.  Burnett  had  managed  to  accompany  them 
thus  far,  and  now,  as  the  great  ship  is  slowly  leav- 
ing the  wharf,  and  Mrs.  Douglas,  Malcom,  Mar- 
gery, Barbara,  and  Bettina  are  clustered  together 
on  her  deck,  waving  again  and  again  their  good- 
bys,  and  straining  their  eyes  still  to  recognize  the 
dear  familiar  form  and  face  among  the  crowd  that 
presses  forward  on  the  receding  pier,  we  will  take 
time  for  a  full  introduction  of  the  chief  personages 
of  our  story. 

Mrs.  Douglas,  who  stands  between  her  children, 
Malcom's  arm  thrown  half-protectingly  about  her 
shoulders,  was,  or  rather  is  (for  our  tale  is  of  re- 
cent date  and  its  characters  are  yet  living),  a  rare 
woman.  Slender  and  graceful,  clothed  in  widow's 
dress,  her  soft  gray  hair  framing  a  still  fair  and 


THE  UNEXPECTED  HAPPENS.         21 

youthful  face,  she  looks  a  typical  American 
woman  of  refinement  and  culture.  And  she  is  all 
this,  and  more  ;  for  did  she  not  possess  a  strong 
Christian  character,  wise  judgment,  and  a  warm 
motherly  heart,  and  were  she  not  ever  eager  to 
gain  that  which  is  noblest  and  best  both  for  her- 
self and  her  children  from  every  experience  of  life, 
careful  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Burnett  would  never  have 
intrusted  their  daughters  to  her. 

Her  husband  had  been  a  young  Scotchman, 
well-born,  finely  educated,  and  possessed  of  ample 
means,  whom  she  had  met  when  a  girl  travelling 
abroad  with  her  parents,  and  her  brief  wedded  life 
had  been  spent  in  beautiful  Edinburgh,  her  hus- 
band's native  city.  Very  soon  after  Margery's 
birth  came  the  terrible  grief  of  her  husband's  death, 
and  lonely  Elizabeth  Douglas  came  across  the  sea, 
bringing  her  two  fatherless  children  to  make  a 
home  for  herself  and  them  among  her  girlhood 
friends. 

Malcom,  a  well-developed,  manly  young  fellow, 
has  just  graduated  from  the  Boston  Latin  School. 
As  he  stands  beside  his  mother  we  see  the  military 
drill  he  has  undergone  in  his  fine  carriage,  straight 
shoulders,  and  erect  head.  He  has  the  Scotch 
complexion,  an  abundance  of  fair  hair,  and  frank, 
steady  eyes  that  win  him  the  instant  trust  and 
friendship  of  all  who  look  into  them.  Though 


22  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

full  of  a  boy's  enthusiasm  and  fun,  yet  he  seems 
older  than  he  is,  as  is  usually  the  case  with  boys 
left  fatherless  who  early  feel  a  certain  manly 
responsibility  for  the  mother  and  sisters. 

Proud  and  fond  indeed  is  Malcom  Douglas 
of  his  mother  and  "  little  Madge,"  as  he  calls 
her,  who,  petite  and  slender,  with  sunny,  flow- 
ing curls,  the  sweetest  of  blue  eyes,  and  a  pure, 
childlike  face,  stands,  with  parted  lips,  flushed 
with  animation,  by  her  mother's  side.  Margery 
is,  as  she  looks,  gentle  and  lovable.  Not  yet 
has  she  ever  known  the  weight  of  the  slightest 
burden  of  care,  but  has  been  as  free  and  happy 
as  the  birds,  as  she  has  lived  in  her  beautiful 
home  with  her  mother  and  brother. 

Barbara  and  Bettina  stand  a  little  apart  from 
the  others,  with  clasped  hands  and  dim  eyes,  as 
the  shore,  the  home-shore,  is  fast  receding  from 
their  sight.  They  are  alike,  and  yet  unlike. 
People  always  say  "  Barbara  and  Bettina,"  never 
"  Bettina  and  Barbara."  They  are  of  the  same 
height,  each  with  brown  hair  and  eyes. 

Barbara's  figure  is  a  little  fuller  and  more 
womanly,  her  hair  has  caught  the  faintest  auburn 
hue,  her  eyes  have  a  more  brilliant  sparkle,  and 
the  color  on  her  cheeks  glows  more  steadily. 
She  looks  at  strangers  with  a  quiet  self-possession, 
and  questions  others  rather  than  thinks  of  her- 


THE  UNEXPECTED  HAPPENS.         23 

self  being  questioned.  As  a  child  she  always 
fought  her  own  and  her  sister's  battles,  and  would 
do  ihe  same  to-day  did  occasion  demand. 

Bettina  is  more  timid  and  self-conscious;  her 
dreamy  eyes  and  quickly  coming  and  going  color 
betray  a  keen  sensitiveness  to  thought  and  im- 
pressions. 

Both  are  beautiful,  and  more  than  one  of  their 
fellow-passengers  look  at  the  sisters  with  interest 
as  they  stand  together,  so  absorbed  in  feeling  that 
they  take  no  note  of  what  is  passing  about  them. 
Just  now  both  are  thinking  of  the  same  thing  — 
a  conversation  held  with  their  father  as  the  trio 
sat  in  a  corner  of  the  car  just  before  reaching 
New  York. 

Dr.  Burnett  had  explained  to  them  just  how 
he  had  been  enabled  to  meet  the  expense  of  their 
coming  travel. 

Then  he  said  :  — 

"  Now  girls,  you  are,  for  the  first  time  in  your 
lives,  to  be  away  from  the  care  and  advice  of  your 
parents.  Of  course,  if  you  need  help  in  judging 
of  anything,  you  are  free  to  go  to  Mrs.  Douglas ; 
but  there  will  be  much  that  it  will  be  best  for  you 
to  decide  without  troubling  her.  You  will  meet 
all  sorts  of  people,  travellers  like  yourselves,  and 
many  you  will  see  who  are  spending  money  freely 
and  for  what  seems  pleasure  only,  without  one 


24  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

thought  of  the  special  education  that  travel  in  the 
Old  World  might  bring  them.  Your  mother  and 
I  have  always  been  actuated  by  one  purpose  re- 
garding our  children.  We  cannot  give  you 
money  in  abundance,  but  we  are  trying  to  give 
you  a  liberal  education, —  that  which  is  to  us  far 
superior  to  mere  money  riches,  —  and  the  only 
consideration  that  makes  us  willing  to  part  from 
you  and  to  sacrifice  for  you  now,  is  our  belief  that 
a  rare  opportunity  for  gaining  culture  and  an 
education  that  cannot  be  found  at  home  is  open 
to  you. 

"  Think  of  this  always,  my  daughters.  Ponder 
it  over  while  you  are  gone,  and  do  your  best  to 
come  home  bringing  a  new  wealth  of  knowledge 
that  shall  bless  your  younger  brothers  and  sisters 
and  our  whole  household,  as  well  as  your  own 
lives.  You  are  not  going  on  a  pleasure  trip, 
dear  girls,  but  to  another  school,  —  a  thoroughly 
novel  and  delightful  one, — but  do  not  forget 
that,  after  all,  it  is  a  school." 

As  the  rapidly  increasing  distance  took  from 
them  the  last  sight  of  the  father's  form,  Barbara 
and  Bettina  turned  and  looked  at  each  other  with 
tearful  eyes;  and  the  unspoken  thought  of  one 
was,  "We  will  come  home  all  that  you  long 
for  us  to  be,  dear  papa! "  and  of  the  other,  "  Oh, 
I  do  hope  we  shall  understand  what  you  wish, 


THE  UNEXPECTED  HAPPENS.         25 

and  learn  what  and  wherever  we  can ! "  and  both 
thoughts  meant  the  same  thing  and  bore  the 
same  earnest  purpose. 

"  Come  girls,"  said  Mrs.  Douglas,  who  had 
keenly  observed  them  without  appearing  to  do 
so,  "  it  is  best  for  us  all  to  go  to  our  staterooms 
directly  and  unpack  our  steamer-trunks.  Perhaps 
in  even  an  hour  or  two  we  may  not  feel  so  much 
like  doing  it  as  we  do  now." 

As  they  passed  through  the  end  of  the  dining- 
saloon,  whose  tables  were  laden  with  bouquets  of 
fresh  and  fragrant  flowers,  brought  by  loving 
friends  to  many  of  the  passengers,  Malcom's 
quick  eye  spied  a  little  pile  of  letters  on  the  end 
of  a  corner  table. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  he,  as  he  turned  back  to 
look  them  over,  "  if  anybody  thought  to  write 
to  us." 

Returning  with  an  envelope  in  his  hands,  he 
cried :  — 

"What  will  you  give  for  a  letter  from  home 
already,  Barbara  and  Betty?" 

"  For  us !  "  exclaimed  the  girls,  "  a  letter  from 
home  for  us !  Why,  we  never  thought  such  a 
thing  could  be  !  How  did  it  get  here  ?  Did  papa 
bring  one  and  put  it  here  ? " 

But  no,  for  the  letter  addressed  in  the  dear 
mother's  handwriting  was  clearly  stamped,  and  its 


26  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

appearance  testified  that  it  had  come  through  the 
mail  to  New  York. 

Hurrying  to  their  stateroom  and  sitting  close  to 
each  other  on  the  sofa  under  the  port-hole,  they 
read  Mrs.  Burnett's  bright,  sweet  motherly  letter, 
and  a  note  from  each  of  their  brothers  and  sisters, 
—  even  a  crumpled  printed  one  from  five-year-old 
Bertie.  So  bright  and  jolly  were  they  all,  that 
they  allayed  rather  than  heightened  the  first  home- 
sick feelings,  and  very  soon  the  girls  were  chatter- 
ing happily  as  they  busied  themselves  with  their 
unpacking. 

The  staterooms  of  the  Kaiser  WilJiclm  II.  are 
more  commodious  than  can  be  found  in  most 
steamships,  even  those  of  the  same  line.  It  was 
delightful  to  find  a  small  wardrobe  in  which  to 
hang  the  warm  wrappers  so  useful  on  shipboard, 
and  the  thick  coats  that  might  be  needed,  and  a 
chest  of  drawers  for  underclothing,  gloves,  etc. 
Toilet  articles  were  put  on  the  tiny  wall-shelves ; 
magazines  and  books  oh  the  top  of  the  chest  of 
drawers ;  and  soon  the  little  room  took  on  a  bit 
of  an  individual  and  homelike  look  which  was 
very  pleasing. 

Mrs.  Douglas  and  Margery  were  just  opposite 
them,  and  Malcom  close  at  hand,  so  there  was  no 
chance  of  feeling  too  much  adrift  from  the  old 
life. 


THE  UNEXPECTED  HAPPENS.         2? 

"Hello,  girls!  Are  you  ready  to  come  up- 
stairs?" in  Malcom's  voice. 

"  How  nice  your  room  looks !  "  cried  Margery ; 
and  up  to  the  deck  they  trooped  to  find  that 
Malcom  had  seen  that  their  steamer-chairs  were 
well  placed  close  together,  and  that  Mrs.  Douglas 
was  already  tucked  in  under  her  pretty  Scotch  rug. 

How  strange  the  deck  looked  now  that  the  host 
of  friends  that  had  crowded  to  say  good-by  were 
gone !  Already  many  hats  and  bonnets  had  been 
exchanged  for  caps,  for  the  wind  was  fresh,  and, 
altogether,  both  passengers  and  deck  struck  our 
party  as  wearing  quite  a  ship-shape  air.  Mrs. 
Douglas  held  in  her  hand  a  passenger-list,  so  in- 
teresting at  just  this  time,  and  was  delighted  to 
learn  that  an  old-time  travelling  companion  was 
on  board. 

"  But,  poor  woman,"  said  she,  "  she  always  has 
to  spend  the  first  three  or  four  days  in  her  berth, 
so  I  shall  not  see  her  for  a  time  unless  I  seek  her 
there.  She  is  a  miserable  sailor." 

"  Oh,  dear !  "  said  Bettina,  "  I  had  forgotten  that 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  seasickness.  Do  you 
think,  Mrs.  Douglas,  that  Barbara  and  I  shall  be 
seasick  ?  It  seems  impossible  when  we  feel  so 
well  now ;  and  the  air  is  so  fine,  and  everything 
so  lovely  !  Are  you  always  seasick,  and  Malcom, 
and  Margery  ? " 


28  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

"  I  have  never  been  really  sick,  save  once,  when 
crossing  the  English  Channel,"  replied  Mrs.  Doug- 
las; "neither  has  Malcom  ever  given  up  to  it, 
though  sometimes  he  has  evidently  suffered.  But 
poor  Margery  has  been  very  sick,  and  it  is  diffi- 
cult for  her  to  exert  enough  will-power  to  quickly 
overcome  it.  It  requires  a  prodigious  amount  to 
do  this  if  one  is  really  seasick." 

"  I  wonder  what  it  feels  like,"  said  Barbara. 
"  I  think  if  will-power  can  keep  one  from  it,  I 
will  not  be  seasick." 

"  Come  and  walk,  girls,"  called  Margery,  who, 
with  Malcom,  had  been  vigorously  walking  to 
and  fro  on  the  wide  deck,  while  their  mother, 
Barbara,  and  Bettina  had  been  talking. 

So  they  walked  until  lunch-time,  and  then  en- 
joyed hugely  the  novelty  of  the  first  meal  on 
shipboard.  After  this,  the  young  people  went  aft 
to  look  down  upon  the  steerage  passengers,  and 
forward  to  the  bow  of  the  noble  ship,  while  Mrs. 
Douglas  took  her  little  nap  downstairs. 

But  alas !  as  the  steamship  took  her  course  fur- 
ther into  the  open  sea,  and  the  wind  grew  more 
and  more  fresh,  the  three  girls  sank  into  their 
chairs,  grew  silent,  and  before  dinner-time  were 
among  the  great  suffering  company  that  every 
ship  carries  during  the  first  days  and  nights  of 
her  voyage. 


Chapter  II. 
Across  Two  Oceans. 


Nobly ,  nobly  Cape  St.  fincent  to  the  northwest  died  away  j 
Sunset  ran,  one  glorious  blood-red,  reeking  into  Cadiz  Bay  : 
Bluish  ''mid  the  turning  water,  full  in  face  Trafalgar  lay  : 
In  the  dimmest  northeast  distance  dawned  Gibraltar  grand  and  gray. 
.   .   .    While  Jove's  planet  rises  yonder  silent  over  Africa. 

—  BROWNING. 


A    BIT    OF    GENOA. 


"DETTY!"  called  Barbara. 

L)  "What,  dear?"  answered  a  weak  voice 
from  the  berth  below. 

"  Do  you  know  how  much  more  quiet  the  water 
is?  and,  Betty,  I  think  Mrs.  Douglas  looked  really 
disappointed  when  she  saw  us  still  immovable  in 
our  berths." 

It  was  the  third  morning  at  sea.  The  fresh 
wind  of  the  first  afternoon  had  blown  a  gale 
before  morning.  A  storm  followed,  and  for  two 
days  the  larger  part  of  the  passengers  had  been 
absent  from  saloon  and  deck. 

Among  these  were  Barbara,  Bettina,  and  Mar- 
gery. Mrs.  Douglas  and  Malcom  had  done  their 
best  to  keep  up  the  spirits  of  their  little  party,  but 
had- found  it  difficult.  Now  for  the  third  time  they 
had  gone  to  breakfast  alone. 

31 


32  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Barbara  was  thinking  hard ;  and,  as  she  thought, 
her  courage  rose. 

"  Betty,"  said  she  again,  "  perhaps  if  you  and  I 
can  get  up  and  dress,  it  may  help  Margery  to  try, 
and  you  know  how  much  her  mother  wishes  her 
to  do  so,  she  so  soon  loses  strength.  And  Mrs. 
Douglas  is  so  good  to  you  and  me !  I  wonder  if 
we  can  take  the  salt-water  baths  that  she  thinks 
help  one  so  much  on  the  sea.  You  remember 
how  much  pains  she  took  as  soon  as  we  came  on 
board  to  get  all  our  names  on  the  bath-stewardess's 
list  for  morning  baths ! " 

"  I  believe  I  will  try ! "  added  she,  after  a  long 
silence. 

And  when  the  broad-faced,  smiling  stewardess 
came  to  see  if  the  young  ladies  would  like  any- 
thing, Barbara  gladdened  her  heart  by  saying  she 
would  have  her  bath. 

"  Oh,  Betty,  Betty  dear !  you  have  no  idea  how 
nice  it  is !  The  ship  is  quiet,  the  port  is  open  in 
the  bath-room,  and  it  is  just  lovely  to  breathe  the 
fresh  air.  Do  try  it.  I  feel  like  a  new  girl !  " 

Before  another  hour  had  passed  the  girls  said 
good-by  to  poor  Margery  after  having  greatly 
encouraged  her  spirits,  and  climbed  the  stairs  to 
the  deck,  where  they  found  Malcom  just  tucking 
his  mother  into  her  chair  after  their  breakfast  and 
morning  walk  on  the  deck.  Such  a  bright  smile 


ACROSS    TWO    OCEANS.  33 

as  Mrs.  Douglas  gave  them !  It  more  than  repaid 
for  all  the  effort  they  had  made. 

"  You  are  just  bricks ! "  cried  Malcom,  with  a 
joyous  look.  "  No  more  seasickness !  Now  we 
will  have  jolly  times,  just  so  soon  as  Madge  can 
come  up." 

"  Go  down  and  persuade  her,  Malcom,  after  you 
have  told  the  deck-steward  to  bring  some  break- 
fast for  these  girls.  I  will  help  her  dress,  and 
you  can  bring  her  up  in  your  arms  if  she  is  too 
weak  to  walk." 

Before  noon,  Margery,  looking  frail  as  a  crushed 
white  lily,  lay  on  a  chair  heaped  with  cushions  and 
rugs  close  beside  her  mother ;  and  the  sweet  salt 
air  and  sunshine  did  their  best  to  atone  for  the 
misery  that  had  been  inflicted  by  the  turbulent 
sea. 

Bright,  happy  days  followed,  and  sunsets  and 
moonlight  evenings,  and  the  girls  learned  to  love 
sea  life.  They  roamed  over  every  part  of  the 
ship.  The  good  captain  always  had  a  smile  and 
welcome  for  young  people,  and  told  them  many 
things  about  the  management  of  vessels  at  sea. 

There  was  no  monotony,  but  every  day  seemed 
full  of  interest.  All  the  wonders  of  the  great  deep 
were  about  them  —  strange  fish,  sea  porpoise,  and 
whales,  by  day,  and  ever-new  phosphorescent 
gleams  and  starry  heavens  by  night.  Then  the 


34  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

wonderful  interest  of  a  sail  at  sea,  or  a  distant 
steamship ;  some  other  humanity  than  that  on 
their  own  ship  passing  them  on  the  limitless 
ocean ! 

On  the  sixth  day  out  the  ship  passed  between 
Flores  and  Corvo,  two  of  the  northernmost  islands 
of  the  Azores ;  and,  through  the  glass,  they  could 
easily  see  the  little  Portuguese  homes  —  almost 
the  very  people  —  scattered  on  the  sloping  hill- 
sides. 

After  two  days  more,  the  long  line  of  the  distant 
shore  of  Cape  St.  Vincent  came  into  view,  and 
Malcom,  fresh  from  his  history  lesson,  recalled  the 
the  fact  that  nearly  a  hundred  years  ago,  a  great 
Spanish  fleet  had  been  destroyed  by  the  English 
under  Admiral  Nelson  a  little  to  the  eastward  on 
these  very  waters. 

The  next  morning  was  a  momentous  one.  In 
the  early  sunshine  the  ship  entered  the  Bay  of 
Gibraltar  and  anchored  for  several  hours.  Boats 
took  the  passengers  to  visit  the  town,  and  to  Bar- 
bara and  Bettina  the  supreme  moment  of  travel  in 
a  foreign  country  had  arrived ;  that  in  which  they 
found  another  land  and  first  touched  it  with  their 
feet;  and  entering  the  streets  found  strange  people 
and  listened  to  a  foreign  tongue. 

They  drove  through  the  queer,  narrow,  crooked 
streets,  out  upon  the  "neutral  ground,"  and  up  to 


ACROSS   TWO   OCEANS.  35 

the  gardens ;  bought  an  English  newspaper ;  then, 
going  back  to  the  ship,  looked  up  at  the  frowning 
rock  threaded  by  those  English  galleries,  which, 
upon  occasion,  can  pour  forth  from  their  windows 
such  a  deadly  hail. 

Leaving  the  harbor,  the  ship  passed  slowly  along 
between  the  "  Pillars  of  Hercules,"  for  so  many 
centuries  the  western  limit  of  the  Old  World,  and 
entered  the  blue  Mediterranean.  And  was  this 
low  dark  line  on  the  right  really  Africa,  the  Dark 
Continent,  which  until  then  had  seemed  only  a 
dream — a  far-away  dream?  What  a  sure  reality 
it  would  ever  be  after  this ! 

Mrs.  Douglas  had  chosen  happily  when  she 
decided  to  land  at  Genoa  instead  of  at  one  of  the 
northern  ports ;  for  aside  from  the  fact  that  the 
whole  Atlantic  passage  was  calmer  than  it  other- 
wise could  have  been,  the  beauty  and  interest  of 
the  days  on  the  Mediterranean  are  almost  with- 
out parallel  in  ocean  travel. 

The  magnificent  snow-capped  mountains  of  the 
Spanish  shore ;  the  rugged  northern  coasts  of  the 
Balearic  Islands;  the  knowledge  that  out  just 
beyond  sight  lies  Corsica,  where  was  born  the 
little  island  boy,  so  proud,  ambitious,  and  unscru- 
pulous as  emperor,  so  sad  and  disappointed  in  his 
banishment  and  death ;  and  then  the  long  beauti- 
ful Riviera  coast,  which  the  steamships  for  Genoa 


36  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

really  skirt,  permitting  their  passengers  to  look 
into  Nice,  Bordighera,  Monaco,  San  Remo,  etc., 
and  to  realize  all  the  picturesque  beauty  of  their 
mountain  background  —  all  this  gave  three  enchant- 
ing days  to  our  little  party  before  the  ship  sailed 
into  the  harbor  of  Genoa,  La  Superba,  a  well- 
merited  title. 

The  city  seemed  now  like  a  jewel  in  green  set- 
ting, as  its  softly  colored  palaces,  rising  terrace 
above  terrace,  surrounded  by  rich  tropical  foliage, 
glowed  in  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun. 

Here  Mrs.  Douglas  was  to  meet  her  brother; 
and  she,  Malcom,  and  Margery  were  full  of  eager 
excitement.  It  was  hard  to  wait  until  the  little 
crowd  of  people  collected  on  the  wharf  should 
separate  into  distinct  individuals. 

"  There  he  is !  there  is  Uncle  Robert !  I  see 
him !  "  cried  Malcom.  "  He  is  waving  his  hand- 
kerchief from  the  top  of  his  cane !  " 

While  Mrs.  Douglas  and  Margery  pressed  for- 
ward to  send  some  token  of  recognition  across 
the  rapidly  diminishing  breadth  of  waters,  Barbara 
and  Bettina  sought  with  vivid '  interest  the  figure 
and  face  of  one  whom  they  remembered  but 
slightly,  but  of  whom  they  had  heard  much. 
Robert  Sumner  was  a  name  often  mentioned  in 
their  home  for,  as  a  boy,  and  young  man,  he  had 
been  particularly  dear  to  Dr.  Burnett  and  had 


ACROSS   TWO   OCEANS.  37 

been  held  up  as  a  model  of  all  excellence  before 
his  own  boys. 

Some  six  years  before  the  time  of  our  story  he 
was  to  marry  a  beautiful  girl,  who  died  almost  on 
the  eve  of  what  was  to  have  been  their  marriage- 
day.  Stunned  by  the  affliction,  the  young  artist 
bade  good-by  to  home  and  friends  and  went  to 
Italy,  feeling  that  he  could  bear  his  loss  only  un- 
der new  conditions ;  and,  ever  since,  that  country 
had  been  his  home.  He  had  travelled  widely,  yet 
had  always  returned  to  Italy.  "  Next  year  I  will 
go  back  to  America,"  he  had  often  thought ;  but 
there  was  still  a  shrinking  from  the  coming  into 
contact  with  painful  associations.  Only  his  sister 
and  her  children  were  left  of  the  home  circle  and 
it  were  happier  if  they  would  come  to  him ;  so  he 
had  stayed  on,  a  voluntary  exile. 

Not  yet  thirty  years  of  age,  he  looked  even 
younger  as  with  shining  eyes  he  watched  the  little 
group  on  the  deck  of  the  big  approaching  steam- 
ship. Of  the  strength  of  his  affections  no  one 
could  be  doubtful  who  witnessed  his  warm,  pas- 
sionate embraces  when,  after  long  delay,  the  ship 
and  shore  were  at  last  bound  together. 

"  And  can  these  be  the  little  Barbara  and  Betty 
who  used  to  sit  on  my  knees  ? "  he  asked  in  wonder, 
as  Mrs.  Douglas  drew  forward  the  tall  girls  that 
they  might  share  in  his  greeting. 


38  BARBARA'S  HER'ITAGE. 

"  I  thought  I  knew  you,  but  am  afraid  we  shall 
have  to  get  acquainted  all  over  again." 

The  following  morning  when,  after  breakfast, 
the  young  people  had  been  put  into  a  carriage  for 
a  drive  all  about  the  city,  Mrs.  Douglas  had  a 
long  conversation  with  her  brother.  He  told  her 
of  the  pleasant  home  in  Florence  which  he  had 
prepared  for  her,  and  some  of  his  plans  for  the 
coming  months. 

"  But  will  not  the  care  of  so  many  young  people 
be  too  much  for  you,  my  sister  ?  Have  you  counted 
well  the  cost  of  added  thought  and  care  which 
our  dear  Doctor's  daughters  will  impose  ?  Tell  me 
about  them.  Are  they  as  sterling  as  their  father 
and  mother  ?  I  must  believe  they  are  neither  giddy 
nor  headstrong,  else  you  would  never  have  under- 
taken the  care  of  them.  Moreover,  their  faces  con- 
tradict any  such  supposition.  They  are  beautiful 
and  very  attractive;  but  are  just  at  the  age  when 
every  power  is  on  the  alert  to  have  its  fill  of  inter- 
est and  enjoyment.  Did  you  notice  how  their 
eyes  sparkled  as  they  took  their  seats  in  the  car- 
riage and  looked  out  upon  the  strange,  foreign 
sights  ? " 

"Yes,"  answered  Mrs.  Douglas.  "We  must  do 
all  we  can  for  them  that  this  visit  to  the  Old  World 
shall  be  as  truly  a  means  of  culture  as  their  parents 
desire.  You  know  I  wrote  you  that  it  is  difficult 


ACROSS    TWO    OCEANS.  39 

for  the  Doctor  to  afford  it,  but  that  he  felt  so 
earnestly  the  good  that  such  an  opportunity  must 
bring  his  girls  that  he  could  not  bear  to  refuse  it. 
As  for  me,  I  love  Barbara  and  Betty  dearly  and 
delight  to  care  for  them  as  for  my  own.  Their 
influence  is  wholesome,  and  our  little  Margery 
loves  them  as  if  they  were  indeed  sisters.  I  have 
thought  much  about  what  is  best  for  all  our  young 
people  to  do  during  the  coming  months  in  Italy. 
Of  course  everything  they  see  and  hear  will  be 
an  education,  but  I  think  we  ought  to  have  some 
definite  plan  for  certainly  a  portion  of  their  time. 
I  have  wished  to  talk  to  you  about  it. 

" '  Help  my  daughters  to  study,'  said  Dr.  Bur- 
nett, and  his  feeling  has  given  me  new  thoughts 
regarding  my  own  children.  Now  there  is  one 
great  field  of  study  into  which  one  can  enter 
in  this  country  as  nowhere  else  —  and  this  is 
art.  Especially  in  Florence  is  the  world  of 
Italian  painting  opened  before  us  —  its  beginnings 
and  growth.  Ought  we  not  to  put  all  of  them, 
Barbara,  Bettina,  Malcom,  and  Margery  into  the 
most  favorable  conditions  for  entering  upon  the 
study  of  this  great  subject,  which  may  prove  a 
source  of  so  much  enjoyment  and  culture  all  their 
lives?  I  well  remember  my  own  wonder  and 
pleasure  when,  years  ago,  our  dear  mother  called 
my  attention  to  it;  and  how  much  it  has  been  to 


4O  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

both  you  and  me !  You  can  help  me  here,  Robert, 
for  this  is  so  much  a  part  of  your  own  life." 

"  I  will  think  it  all  over,  sister,  and  we  will 
see  what  we  can  do.  As  for  me,  I  am  too  happy 
just  now  in  having  you  and  the  children  with 
me  to  give  thought  to  anything  else.  So  talk 
to  me  to-day  of  nothing  but  your  own  dear 
selves." 

Two  days  later  our  travellers  were  on  their 
way  down  the  western  coast  of  Italy,  threading 
tunnels,  and  snatching  brief  views  of  the  Medi- 
terranean on  one  side  and  smiling  vineyards  and 
quaint  Italian  cities  on  the  other. 

"  We  will  not  stop  at  Pisa,"  said  Mr.  Sumner, 
"but  will  come  to  visit  it  some  time  later  from 
Florence ;  but  you  must  watch  for  a  fine  view 
from  the  railway  of  its  Cathedral,  Leaning  Tower, 
Baptistery,  and  Campo  Santo.  The  mountains 
are  withdrawing  from  us  now,  and  I  think  we 
shall  reach  it  soon." 

"  Oh !  how  like  the  pictures  we  have  seen ! " 
cried  Malcom.  "  How  fine !  The  tower  does 
lean  just  as  much  as  we  have  thought!" 

"How  beautiful  it  all  is,  —  the  blue  hills,  the 
green  plain,  and  the  soft  yellow  of  the  build- 
ings ! "  said  Bettina. 

"Will  you  tell  us  something  of  it  all,  Mr. 
Sumner  ? "  asked  Barbara.  "  I  know  there  is 


ACROSS   TWO   OCEANS.  4! 

something  wonderful    and    interesting,   but   can- 
not remember  just  what." 

"  There  are  many  very  interesting  things  about 
this  old  city,"  answered  Mr.  Sumner.  "  First  of 
all,  the  striking  changes  through  which  it  has 
passed.  Once  Pisa  was  on  the  sea,  possessed  ji 
fine  harbor,  and  in  rich  commerce  was  a  rival  of 
Genoa  and  Venice.  She  was  a  proud,  eager,  as- 
sertive city ;  of  such  worth  that  she  was  deemed 
a  rich  prize,  and  was  captured  by  the  Romans 
a  few  centuries  B.C.  Now  the  sea  has  left  her 
and,  with  that,  her  commerce  and  importance  in 
the  world  of  trade.  She  is  to-day  so  poor  that 
there  is  nothing  to  tempt  travellers  to  come  to 
her  save  a  magnificent  climate  and  this  wonder- 
ful group  of  buildings.  The  inhabitants  are  few 
and  humble,  her  streets  are  grass-grown.  Every- 
thing has  stopped  in  poor  old  Pisa.  Here  Gali- 
leo was  born,  and  lived  for  years;  and  in  the 
Cathedral  is  a  great  swinging  lamp  which  is  said 
to  have  first  suggested  to  his  mind  the  motion 
of  the  pendulum,  and  from  the  top  of  the  Lean- 
ing Tower  he  used  to  study  the  planets^  The 
Tower  is  the  Campanile,  or  Bell  Tower,  of  the 
Cathedral.  With  regard  to  its  position,  there  are 
different  opinions.  Some  writers  think  it  only  an 
accident,  —  that  the  foundation  of  one  side  gave 
way  during  the  building,  thus  producing  the  ef- 


42  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

feet  we  see.  Others  think  it  was  purposely  so 
built,  planned  by  some  architect  who  desired  _tp^ 
gain  a  unique  effect  and  so_  prove  his  masjery 
over  the  subtleties  of_  building.  I  confess  that 
since  I  have  seen  the  leaning  towers  of  Bo- 
logna, which  were  erected  about  the  same 
time,  I  am  inclined  to  agree  _with  the  latter 
view." 

"  I  should  think,  uncle,"  said  Malcom,  "  that 
if  such  defective  foundations  had  been  laid,  there 
would  have  been  further  trouble,  and  the  poor 
Tower  would  have  fallen  long  ago." 

"Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Sumner,  "it  does  not  seem 
very  reasonable  to  believe  that  they  would  have 
given  way  just  enough   to  make  the  Tower  lean 
as  it   does  now,  and   that  then  it  should   remain 
stationary  for  so  many  centuries  afterward.     The 
Baptistery,  or   place   for  baptism,    was   formerly 
built  in  Italy  separate  from  the  Cathedral,  as  was 
the  Campanile,  just  as   we   see   them   here.     In 
northern  countries  and   in  more   modern    Italian 
cathedrals,   we   find   all   united   in   one   building. 
(The  most  interesting  thing  in   this  Baptistery  is 
ya  magnificent  marble  pulpit  covered  with  sculp- 
tures  designed   by  Nicholas   Pisano.      To  see  it 
'  alone   is  worth   a  visit  to    Pisa.     The   long,  low 
•^building  that  you  saw  beyond  the  other  buildings 
{is    the    Campo   Santo,    a   name   given    to    burial 


ACROSS    TWO    OCEANS.  43 

places  in  Italy,  which,  as  you  know,  is  a  Latin 
term,  and  means  'holy  grounp!.' " 

"  I  think  it  is  a  beautiful  name,"  said  Bettina. 

"  Yes,  there  is  a  solemn  rhythm  about  the 
words  that  pleases  the  ear  rather  more  than 
does  our  word  '  cemetery,'  "  said  Mr.  Sumner. 

"  But  there  is  something  especially  interesting 
about  this  Campo  Santo,  isn't  there  ? "  queried 
Barbara,  and  added  :  "I  do  hope  I  shall  remem- 
ber all  such  things  after  I  have  really  seen  the 
places !  " 

"  You  surely  will,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Doug- 
las ;  "  ever  afterward  they  will  be  realities  to 
you,  not  mere  stories." 

Mr.  Sumner  resumed :  "  The  Carnpo  Santo  of 
Pisa  is  the  first  one  that  was  laid  out  in  Italy, 
and  it  is  still  by  far  the  most  beautiful.  It  pos- 
sesses the  dimensions  of  Noah's  Ark,  and  is 
literally  holy  ground,  for  it  was  filled  with  fifty- 
three  shiploads  of  earth  brought  from  Mount 
Calvary,  so  that  the  dead  of  Pisa  repose  in  sa- 
cred ground.  The  inner  sides  of  its  walls  were 
decorated  with  noble  paintings,  many  of  which 
are  now  completely  faded.  We  will  come  to  see 
those  which  remain  some  day." 

"  How  strange  it  all  is !  "  said  Bettina.  "  How 
different  from  anything  we  see  at  home !  Think 
of  ships  sent  to  the  Holy  Land  for  earth  from 


44  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

Mount  Calvary,  and  their  coming  back  over  the 
Mediterranean  laden  with  such  a  cargo ! " 

"  Only  a  superstitious,  imggmatiye  people,  such 
as  the  Italians  are,  would  have  done  such  a 
thing,"  said  Mrs.  Douglas;  "and  only  in  the 
mediaeval  age  of  the  world." 

"  But,"  she  went  on  with  a  bright  smile,  "  it 
is  the  same  spirit  that  has  reared  such  exquisite 
buildings  for  the  worship  of  God  and  rilled  them 
with  rare,  sacred  marbles  and  paintings  that  are 
beyond  price  to  the  world  of  art.  I  always  feel 
when  I  come  hither  and  see  the  present  poverty 
of  the  beautiful  land  that  the  whole  world  is  its 
.debtor,  and  can  never  repay  what  it  owes." 


Chapter  III. 
In  Beautiful  Florence. 


For  to  the  highest  she  did  still  aspyre  ; 

Or,  if  ought  higher  -were  then  that,  did  it  detyrt. 

—  SPENSER. 


CHURCH    OF    THE    ANNUNZIATA,    FLORENCE. 


ONE  afternoon,  about  two  weeks  later,  Barbara 
and  Bettina  were  sitting  in  their  pleasant  room 
in  Florence.  The  wide-open  windows  looked  out 
upon  the  slopes  of  that  lovely  hill  on  whose  sum- 
mit is  perched  Fiesole,  the  poor  little  old  mother 
of  Florence,  who  still  holds  watch  over  her  beauti- 
ful daughter  stretched  at  her  feet.  Scented  airs 
which  had  swept  all  the  way  from  distant  blue  hills 
over  countless  orange,  olive,  and  mulberry  groves 
filled  the  room,  and  fluttered  the  paper  upon  which 
the  girls  were  writing ;  it  was  their  weekly  letter 
budget. 

The  fair  faces  were  flushed  as  they  bent  over 
the  crowded  sheets  so  soon  to  be  scanned  by  dear 
eyes  at  home.  How  much  there  was  to  tell  of  the 
events  of  the  past  week !  Drives  through  the 
streets  of  the  famous  city ;  through  the  lovely 

47 


48  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Cascine ;  up  to  San  Miniato  and  Fiesole ;  visits  to 
churches,  palaces,  and  picture-galleries ;  days  filled 
to  overflowing  with  the  new  life  among  foreign 
scenes. 

Suddenly  Barbara,  throwing  aside  her  pen, 
exclaimed :  — 

"  Betty  dear,  don't  you  sometimes  feel  most 
horribly  ignorant  ? " 

"Why?  when?" 

"  Oh  !  I  am  just  writing  about  our  visit  to  Santa 
Croce  the  other  day.  I  enjoyed  so  much  the  fine 
spaces  within  the  church,  the  softened  light,  and 
some  of  the  monuments.  But  when  we  came  to 
those  chapels  whose  walls  are  covered  with  paint- 
ings, —  you  remember,  where  we  met  that  Mr. 
Sherman  and  his  daughters  who  came  over  on  the 
Kaiser  with  us,  —  I  tried  to  understand  why  they 
were  so  interested  there.  They  were  studying  the 
paintings  for  such  a  long  time,  and  I  heard  some 
of  the  things  they  were  saying  about  them.  They 
thought  them  perfectly  wonderful ;  and  that  Miss 
Sherman  who  has  such  lovely  eyes  said  she  thought 
it  worth  coming  from  America  to  Italy  just  to  see 
them  and  other  works  by  the  same  artist.  Mr. 
Sumner,  too,  heard  what  she  said,  and  gave  her 
such  a  pleased,  admiring  look.  After  they  had 
gone  out  from  the  chapel  where  are  pictures  rep- 
resenting scenes  in  the  life  of  St.  Francis,  I  went 


IN    BEAUTIFUL    FLORENCE.  49 

in  and  looked  and  looked  at  them ;  but,  try  as  hard 
as  I  could,  I  could  not  be  one  bit  interested.  The 
pictures  are  so  queer,  the  figures  so  stiff,  I  could 
not  see  a  beautiful  or  interesting  thing  about  them. 
But  I  know  I  am  all  wrong.  I  do  want  to  see 
what  they  saw,  and  to  feel  as  they  felt ! " 

"  I  liked  the  pictures  because  of  their  subject," 
said  Bettina ;  "  that  dear  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  who 
loved  the  birds  and  flowers,  and  talked  to  them  as 
if  they  could  understand  him.  But  I  did  not  see 
any  beauty  in  them." 

"  We  must  learn  what  it  is ;  we  must  do  more 
than  just  look  at  all  these  early  pictures  that  fill 
the  churches  and  galleries  just  as  we  would  look 
at  wall  paper,  as  so  many  people  seemed  to  do  in 
the  Uffizi  gallery  the  other  day,"  said  Barbara, 
emphatically.  "  This  must  be  one  of  the  things 
papa  meant." 

Just  here  came  a  knock  on  the  door. 

"  May  we  come  in,  Margery  and  I  ?"  asked  Mal- 
com.  "  Why !  what  is  the  matter  ?  You  look 
as  if  you  had  been  talking  of  something  un- 
pleasant." 

Bettina  told  of  Barbara's  trouble. 

"  How  strange !  "  said  Margery.  "  Mamma  has 
just  been  talking  to  us  about  this  very  thing.  She 
says  that,  if  you  like,  Uncle  Robert  will  teach  us 
about  the  works  of  the  Italian  painters.  You 


5O  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

know  he  knows  everything  about  them !  He 
has  even  written  a  book  about  these  paintings  in 
Florence !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Malcom  with  a  comical  shrug,  "  the 
idea  is  that  we  all  spend  one  or  two  mornings 
every  week  studying  stiff  old  Madonnas  and  Mag- 
dalenes  and  saints !  I  love  noble  and  beautiful 
paintings  as  well  as  any  one,  but  I  wonder  if  I  can 
ever  learn  anything  that  will  make  me  care  to  look 
twice  at  some  of  those  old  things  in  the  long 
entrance  gallery  of  the  Uffizi.  I  doubt  it.  Give 
me  the  old  palaces  where  the  Medici  lived,  and  let 
me  study  up  what  they  did.  Or  even  Dante,  or 
Michael  Angelo  !  He  was  an  artist  who  is  worth 
studying  about.  Why  !  do  you  know,  he  built  the 
fortifications  of  San  Miniato  and  —  " 

"  But,"  interrupted  Barbara,  "  you  know  that 
whenever  Italy  is  written  or  talked  about,  her  art 
seems  to  be  the  very  most  important  thing.  I  was 
reading  only  the  other  day  an  article  in  which  the 
writer  said  that  undoubtedly  the  chief  mission  or 
gift  of  Italy  to  the  world  is  her  paintings,  —  her 
old  paintings,  —  and  that  this  mission  is  all  f  ul^ 
filled.  Now,  if  this  be  true,  do  we  wish  to  come 
here  and  go  away  without  learning  all  that  we  pos- 
sibly can  of  them  ?  I  think  that  would  be  foolish." 

"  And,"  added  Bettina,  "  I  think  one  of  the  most 
interesting  studies  in  the  world  is  about  these  same 


IN    BEAUTIFUL   FLORENCE.  51 

old  saints  whom  you  dislike  so  much,  Malcom. 
They  were  heroes  ;  and  I  think  some  of  them  were 
a  great  deal  grander  than  those  mythological  char- 
acters you  so  dote  upon.  If  your  uncle  will  only 
be  so  good  as  to  talk  to  us  of  the  pictures !  Let 
us  go  at  once  and  thank  him.  Now,  Malcom,  you 
will  be  enthusiastic  about  it,  will  you  not  ?  There 
will  be  so  much  time  for  all  the  other  things." 

Bettina  put  her  arm  affectionately  about  Mar- 
gery, and  smiled  into  Malcom's  face,  as  they  all 
went  to  seek  Mrs.  Douglas  and  Mr.  Sumner. 

"  Here  come  the  victims,  Uncle  Rob !  three  will- 
ing ones,  —  Barbara,  who  is  ever  sighing  for  new 
worlds  to  conquer  ;  Betty,  who  already  dotes  upon 
St.  Sebastian  stuck  full  of  arrows  and  St.  Lucia 
carrying  her  eyes  on  a  platter ;  Madge,  who  would 
go  to  the  rack  if  only  you  led  the  way,  —  and  poor 
rebellious,  inartistic  I." 

"But,  my  boy  —  "  began  Mrs.  Douglas. 

"  Oh  !  I  will  do  it  all  if  only  the  girls  will  climb 
the  Campanile  and  Galileo's  Tower  with  me  and 
it  does  not  interfere  with  our  drives  and  walks.  If 
this  is  to  become  an  aesthetic  crowd,  I  don't  wish 
to  be  left  out,"  laughed  Malcom. 

A  morning  was  decided  upon  for  the  first  lesson. 

"  We  will  begin  at  the  beginning,"  said  Mr. 
Sumner ;  "  one  vital  mistake  often  made  is  in  not 
starting  far  enough  back.  In  order  to  realize  in 


52  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

the  slightest  degree  the  true  work  of  these  old 
masters,  one  must  know  in  what  condition  the  art 
was  before  their  time ;  or  rather,  that  there  was 
no  art.  So  we  will  first  go  to  the  Accademia  delle 
Belle  Arti,  or  Academy,  as  we  will  call  it,  and  from 
there  to  the  church,  Santa  Maria  Novella.  And 
one  thing  more, — you  are  welcome  to  go  to  my 
library  and  learn  all  you  can  from  the  books  there. 
I  am  sure  I  do  not  need  to  tell  those  who  have 
studied  so  much  as  you  already  have  that  the  knowl- 
edge you  shall  gain  from  coming  into  contact 
with  any  new  thing  must  be  in  a  great  degree 
measured  by  that  which  you  take  to  it"  j 

"  How  good  you  are  to  give  us  so  much  of  your 
time,  Mr.  Sumner,"  said  Barbara,  with  sparkling 
eyes.  "  How  can  we  ever  repay  you  ? " 

"  By  learning  to  love  this  subject  somewhat  as  I 
love  it,"  replied  Mr.  Sumner;  but  he  thought  as 
he  felt  the  magnetism  of  her  young  enthusiasm 
that  he  might  gain  something  of  compensation 
which  it  was  impossible  to  put  into  words. 

"  Are  you  not  going  with  us,  dear  Mrs.  Doug- 
las ? "  asked  Bettina,  as  the  little  party  were  pre- 
paring to  set  forth  on  the  appointed  morning. 

"  Not  to-day,  dear,  for  I  have  another  engage- 
ment." 

"  I  think  I  know  what  mamma  is  going  to  do," 


IN    BEAUTIFUL    FLORENCE.  53 

said  Margery  as  they  left  the  house.  I  heard  the 
housemaid,  Anita,  telling  her  last  evening  about 
the  illness  of  her  little  brother,  and  saying  that  her 
mother  is  so  poor  that  she  cannot  get  for  the  child 
what  he  needs.  I  think  mamma  is  going  to  see 
them  this  morning." 

"Just  like  that  blessed  mother  of  ours!"  ex- 
claimed Malcom.  There  is  never  anybody  in 
want  near  her  about  whom  she  is  not  sure  to  find 
out  and  to  help !  It  will  be  just  the  same  here  as 
at  home;  Italians  or  Americans — all  are  alike  to 
her.  She  will  give  up  anything  for  herself  in  order 
to  do  for  them." 

"  I  am  glad  you  know  her  so  well,"  said  his 
uncle,  with  a  smile.  "There  is  no  danger  that  you 
can  ever  admire  your  mother  too  much." 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  Barbara,  as  after  a  little  walk  i 
they  entered  a  square  surrounded  by  massive  build-  J 
ings,  with  arcades,   all  white  with  the   sunshine. 
"  Look   at   that   building !     It   is   decorated   with 
those  dear  little  babies,  all  swathed,  whose  photo- 
graphs we  have  so  often  seen  in  the  Boston  art 
stores.     What  is  it  ?     Where  are  we  ? " 

"  In  the  Piazza,  dell'  Annunziata,"  replied  Mr. 
Sumner,  "and  an  interesting  place  it  is.  That 
building  is  the  Foundling  Hospital,  a  very  an- 
cient and  famous  institution.  And  the  '  swathed 
babies'  are  the  work  of  Andrea  della  Robbia." 


54  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

"  Poor  little  innocents !  How  tired  they  must 
be,  wrapped  up  like  mummies  and  stuck  on  the 
wall  like  specimen  butterflies ! "  whispered  Mal- 
com  in  an  aside  to  Bettina. 

"  Hush  !  hush  !  "  laughed  she.  "  Your  uncle 
will  hean^ou." 

"  This  beautiful  church  just  here  on  our  right," 
continued  Mr.  Sumner,  "  is^the  church  of  the  S.  S. 
Annunziata  or  the  most  Holy  Annunciation.  It 
was  founded  in  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury by  seven  noble  Florentines,  who  used  to 
meet  daily  to  sing  Ave  Maria  in  a  chapel  situated 
where  the  Campanile  of  the  Cathedral  now  stands. 
It  has  been  somewhat  modernized  and  is  now  the 
most  fashionable  church  in  Florence.  It  contains 
some  very  interesting  paintings,  which  we  will 
visit  by  and  by." 

"  Every  step  we  take  in  this  beautiful  city  is 
full  of  interest,  and  how  different  from  anything 
we  can  find  at  home ! "  exclaimed  Bettina. 
"  Look  at  the  color  of  these  buildings,  and  their 
exquisite  arches !  See  the  soft  painting  over  the 
door  of  the  church,  and  the  sculptured  bits  every- 
where !  I  begin,  just  a  little,  to  see  why  Florence 
is  called  the  art  city" 

"  But  only  a  little,  yet,"  said  Mr.  Sumner,  with 
a  pleased  look.  "  You  are  just  on  the  threshold 
of  the  knowledge  of  this  fair  city.  Not  what  she 


IN  BEAUTIFUL  FLORENCE.          55 

outwardly  is,  but  what  she  contains,  and  what  her 
children  have  wrought,  constitute  her  wealth  of 
art.  Do  you  remember,  Margery,  what  name 
the  poet  Shelley  gives  Florence  in  that  beautiful 
poem  you  were  reading  yesterday  ?  " 

"  O  Foster-nurse  of  man's  abandoned  glory, 
Since  Athens,  its  great  mother,  sunk  in  splendor, 
Thou  shadowest  forth  that  mighty  shape  in  story, 
As  ocean  its  wrecked  fanes,  severe  yet  tender," 

dreamily  recited  Margery,  her  sweet  face  flushing 
as  all  eyes  looked  at  her. 

"Yes,"  smiled  her  uncle.  "Florence,  as  foster-  ( 
nurse,  has  cherished  for  the  world  the  art-treasures 
of  early  centuries  in  Italy,  so  that  there  is  no 
other  city  on  earth  in  which  we  can  learn  so  < 
much  of  the  '  revival  of  art,'  as  it  is  called,  which 
took  place  after  the  barrenness  of  the  Dark  Ages, 
as  in  this.  But  here  we  are  at  the  Academy.  I 
shall  not  allow  you  to  look  at  much  here  this 
morning.  We  will  go  and  sit  in  the  farther  corner 
of  this  first  corridor,  for  I  wish  to  talk  a  little, 
and  just  here  we  shall  find  all  that  I  need  for 
illustration." 

"  You  need  not  put  on  such  a  martyr-look, 
Malcom,"  continued  he,  as  they  walked  on.  "  I 
prophesy  that  not  one  here  present  will  feel  more 
solid  interest  in  the  work  we  are  beginning  than 
you  will,  my  boy." 


56  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

When  Mr.  Sumner  had  gathered  the  little  group 
about  him,  he  began  to  talk  of  the  beauties  of 
Greek  art  —  how  it  had  flourished  for  centuries 
before  Christ. 

"  But  I  thought  Greek  art  consisted  of  sculp- 
tures," said  Barbara. 

"  Much  of  it  was  sculptured,  —  all  of  it  which 
remains, — but  we  have  evidence  that  the  Greeks 
also  produced  beautiful  paintings,  which,  could 
they  have  been  preserved,  might  be  not  unworthy 
rivals  of  modern  masterpieces,"  replied  Mr. 
Sumner.  "  After  the  Roman  invasion  of  Greece, 
these  ancient  works  of  art  were  mostly  destroyed. 
Rome  possessed  no  fine  art  of  her  own,  but  im- 
ported Greek  artists  to  produce  for  her.  These, 
taken  away  from  their  native  land,  and  having  no 
noble  works  around  them  for  inspiration,  began 
simply  to  copy  each  other,  and  so  the  art  degen- 
erated from  century  to  century.  The  growing 
Christian  religion,  which  forbade  the  picturing  of 
any  living  beauty,  gave  the  death-blow  to  such 
excellence  as  remained.  A  style  of  painting 
followed  which  received  the  name  of  GreeJ^  By^- 
antine.  In  it  was  no  study  of  life ;  all  was  most 
strikingly  conventional,  and  it  grew  steadily  worse 
and  worse.  A  comparison  of  the  paintings  and 
mosaics  of  the  sixth,  seventh,  eighth,  and  ninth 
centuries  shows  the  rapid  decline  of  all  art 


IN  BEAUTIFUL  FLORENCE.          57 

qualities.  Finally  every  figure  produced  was  a 
most  arrant  libel  on  nature.  It  was  always 
painted  against  a  flat  gold  background ;  the 
limbs  were  wholly  devoid  of  action ;  the  feet  and 
hands  hung  helplessly ;  and  the  eyes  were  round 
and  staring.  The  flesh  tints  were  a  dull  brick  red, 
and  all  else  a  dreary  brown." 

"Come  here,"  said  he,  rising,  "and  see  an  ex- 
ample of  this  Greek  Byzantine  art, — this  Magda- 
len. Study  it  well." 

"Oh,  oh,  how  dreadful!"  chorussed  the  voices 
of  all. 

"  Uncle  Rob,  do  you  mean  to  say  there  was  no 
painting  in  the  world  better  than  this  in  the  ninth 
—  or  thereabouts  —  century  ? "  asked  Malcom,  with 
wondering  eyes. 

"  I  mean  to  say  just  that,  Malcom.  But  I  must 
tell  you  something  more  about  this  same  Greek 
Byzantine  painting,  for  there  is  a  school  of  it 
to-day.  Should  you  go  to  Southern  Italy  or  to 
Russia,  you  would  find  many  booths  for  trading, 
in  the  back  of  which  you  would  see  a  Madonna, 
or  some  saint,  painted  in  just  this  style.  These 
pictures  have  gained  a  superstitious  value  among 
the  lower  classes  of  the  people,  and  are  believed 
to  possess  a  miraculous  power.  In  Mt.  Athos, 
Greece,  is  a  school  that  still  produces  them. 
Doubtless  this  has  grown  out  of  the  tact  that 


58  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

several  of  these  old  paintings,  notably  Madonnas, 
are  treasured  in  the  churches,  and  the  people 
are  taught  that  miracles  have  been  wrought 
by  them.  In  the  Santa  Maria  Maggiore,  Rome, 
is  an  example  (the  people  are  told  that  it  was 
painted  by  St.  Luke),  and  during  the  plague  in 
Rome,  and  also  during  a  great  fire  which  was 
most  disastrous,  this  painting  was  borne  through 
the  city  by  priests  in  holy  procession,  and  the 
tradition  is  that  both  plague  and  fire  were 
stayed." 

"  What  a  painfully  ridiculous  figure  !  "  exclaimed 
Barbara,  who  had  been  silently  absorbed  in  study. 
"  It  is  painful  because  every  line  looks  as  if  the 
artist  had  done  his  very  best,  and  that  is  so  utterly 
bad.  It  means  absolutely  nothing." 

"  You  have  fathomed  the  woful  secret,"  replied 
Mr.  Sumner.  "  It  shows  no  evidence  of  the  slight- 
est thought.  Only  a  man's  fingers  produced  this. 
All  power  of  originality  had  become  lost ;  all  desire 
for  it  was  unknown." 

"Then,  how  did  things  ever  get  better?"  asked 
Malcom. 

"  An  interesting  question.  I  wish  you  all  would 
read  some  before  I  tell  you  any  more.  Find  some- 
thing, please,  that  treats  of  the  beginnings  of 
Christian  art  in  the  Catacombs  of  Rome.  Read 
about  the  manuscript  illuminations  produced  by 


BYZANTINE    MAGDALEN 


IN    BEAUTIFUL    FLORENCE.  59 

monks  cf  the  tenth  and  eleventh  centuries,  which 
are  to  be  found  in  some  great  libraries.  In  these 
we  find  the  best  art  of  that  time." 

"If  you  find  anything  about  Cimabue  and 
Giotto,1"  he  added,  "  you  would  better  read  that 
also,  for  the  work  of  these  old  painters  will  be 
the  subject  of  our  next  lesson.  For  it,  we  will  go 
to  the  church  Santa  Maria  Novella." 

"  And  Santa  Croce  ? "  asked  Barbara,  more 
timidly  than  was  her  wont. 

"And  Santa  Croce  too,"  smilingly  added  Mr. 
Sumner. 

"And  now,  Malcom,  if  you  can  find  a  wide 
carriage,  we  all  will  drive  for  an  hour  before 
going  home." 


Chapter  IV. 
A  New  Friend  Appears. 


The  first  sound  in  the  song  of  love 
Scarce  more  than  silence  ist  and  yet  a  sound. 
Hands  of  in-visible  spirits  touch  the  strings 
Of  that  mysterious  instrument,  the  soul, 
And  play  the  prelude  of  our  fate. 

—  LONGFELLOW. 


DUOMO    AND     CAMPANILE,    FLORENCE. 


ONE  day  Malcom  met  an  old  fellow-student. 
Coming  home,  he  told  his  mother  of  him, 
and  asked  permission  to  bring  him  for  intro- 
duction. 

"  His  name  is  Howard  Sinclair.  I  did  not 
know  him  very  well  in  the  school,  for  he  was  some 
way  ahead  of  me.  He  is  now  in  Harvard  College. 
But  his  lungs  are  very  weak ;  and  last  winter  the 
doctors  sent  him  to  Egypt,  and  told  him  he  must 
stay  for  at  least  two  years  in  the  warmer  countries. 
He  is  lonely  and  pretty  blue,  I  judge  ;  was  glad 
enough  to  see  me." 

"  Poor  boy !  Yes,  bring  him  here,  and  I  will 
talk  with  him.  Perhaps  we  can  make  it  more 
pleasant  for  him.  You  are  sure  his  character  is 
beyond  question,  Malcom  ?  " 

"  I  think  so.  He  has  lots  of  money,  and  is  in- 
63 


64  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

clined  to  spend  it  freely,  but  I  know  he  was  called 
a  pretty  fine  fellow  in  the  school,  though  not 
very  well  known  by  many.  He  is  rather  '  toney,' 
you  know,  —  held  his  head  too  high  for  common 
fellows.  The  teachers  especially  liked  him ; 
for  he  is  awfully  bright,  and  took  honors  right 
along." 

The  next  day  Malcom  brought  his  friend  to 
his  mother,  whose  heart  he  won  at  once  by  his 
evident  delicate  health,  his  gentlemanly  manners, 
and,  perhaps  most  of  all,  because  he  had  been  an 
orphan  for  years,  and  was  so  much  alone  in  the 
world.  She  decided  to  welcome  him  to  her  home, 
and  to  give  him  the  companionship  of  her  young 
people. 

Howard  Sinclair  was  a  young  man  of  brilliant 
intellectual  promise.  He  had  inherited  most 
keen  sensibilities,  an  almost  morbid  delicacy  of 
thought,  a  variable  disposition,  and  a  frail  body. 
Both  father  and  mother  died  before  he  was  ten 
years  of  age,  leaving  a  large  fortune  for  him, 
their  only  child ;  and,  since  then,  his  home  had 
been  with  an  aged  grandmother.  Without  any 
young  companions  in  the  home,  and  lacking  desire 
for  activity,  he  had  given  himself  up  to  an  almost 
wholly  sedentary  life.  The  body,  so  delicate  by 
nature,  had  always  been  made  secondary  to  the 
alert  mind.  His  luxurious  tastes  could  all  be 


A    NEW    FRIEND    APPEARS.  65 

gratified,  and  thus  far  he  had  lived  like  some 
conservatory  plant. 

The  very  darling  of  his  grandmother's  heart,  it 
was  like  death  to  her  to  part  from  him  when 
the  physicians  decided  that  to  save  his  life  it  was 
an  imperative  necessity  that  he  should  live  for  a 
a  time  in  a  warmer  climate.  It  was  an  utter  impos- 
sibility for  her  to  accompany  him.  He  shrank 
from  any  other  companion,  therefore  had  set  forth 
with  only  his  faithful  John,  who  had  been  an  old 
servant  in  the  family  before  he  was  born,  as  valet. 
He  went  first  to  Egypt,  where  he  had  remained  as 
long  as  the  heat  would  permit,  then  had  gone 
northwest  to  the  Italian  lakes  and  Switzerland, 
whence  he  had  now  come  to  spend  a  time  in 
Florence. 

Lonely,  homesick,  and  disheartened,  it  was 
indeed  like  a  "  gift  of  the  gods  "  to  him  when 
one  day,  as  he  was  leaving  his  banker's  on  Via 
Tornabuoni  he  met  the  familiar  face  of  Malcom 
Douglas.  And  when  he  was  welcomed  to  his  old 
schoolmate's  home  and  family  circle,  the  weary 
young  man  felt  for  the  first  time  in  many  months 
the  sensation  of  rest  and  peace. 

His  evident  lack  of  physical  strength,  and  the 
quickly  coming  and  going  color  in  his  cheeks,  told 
Mrs.  Douglas  that  he  could  never  know  perfect 
health  ;  but  he  said  that  the  change  of  country 


66  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

and  climate  had  already  done  him  much  good,  and 
this  encouraged  him  to  think  of  staying  from  home 
a  year  or  two  in  the  hope  that  then  all  danger  of 
active  disease  might  have  passed. 

He  so  evidently  longed  for  companionship  that 
Malcom  and  the  girls  told  him  of  their  life,  —  of 
their  Italian  lessons,  —  their  reading, —  Mr.  Sum- 
ner's  talks  about  Italian  painting, —  Malcom's  pri- 
vate college  studies  (which  he  had  promised  his 
mother  to  pursue  if  she  would  give  him  this  year 
abroad),  and  all  that  which  was  filling  their  days. 
He  was  especially  interested  in  their  lessons  on  the 
Italian  masters  of  painting,  and  asked  if  they  would 
permit  him  to  join  them. 

"  If  you  will  only  come  to  me  when  you  have  any 
trouble  with  your  Greek  and  Latin,  Malcom,"  he 
said,  "  perhaps  I  can  repay  you  in  the  slightest 
degree  for  the  wonderful  pleasure  this  would  give 
me." 

So  as  Mr.  Sumner  was  willing,  his  little  class 
received  the  addition  of  Howard  Sinclair. 

"  Why  so  sober,  Malcom  ? "  asked  his  mother, 
as  she  found  him  alone  by  himself.  "  Is  not 
the  arrangement  that  your  friend  join  you  agree- 
able ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  mother,  he  is  a  nice  fellow,  though  a 
sort  of  a  prig,  and  I  wish  to  do  all  we  can  for  him  ; 
only  —  I  do  hope  he  will  not  monopolize  Betty 


A    NEW    FRIEND    APPEARS.  6/ 

and  Barbara  always,  as  he  has  seemed  to  do  this 
afternoon." 

"  My  boy,  beware  of  that  little  green  imp  we 
read  of,"  laughed  Mrs.  Douglas.  "You  have  been 
too  thoroughly  'monarch  of  all '  thus  far.  Can  you 
not  share  your  realm  with  this  homesick  young 
man  ? " 

"  But  he  has  always  had  all  for  himself,  mother. 
He  does  not  know  what  it  is  to  share." 

"  Malcom  !  be  yourself." 

The  mother's  eyes  looked  straight  up  into  those 
of  her  tall  boy,  and  her  hand  sought  his  with  a 
firm,  warm  pressure  that  made  him  fling  back 
his  noble  young  head  with  an  emphatic  "  I  am 
ashamed  of  myself  !  Thank  you,  mother  dear." 

That  evening,  as  all  were  sitting  on  the  balcony 
watching  the  soft,  rosy  afterglow  that  was  creep- 
ing over  the  hills  and  turning  to  glowing  points 
the  domes  and  spires  of  the  fair  city,  Mr.  Sumner 
said :  — 

"  If  you  are  willing,  I  would  like  to  talk  with 
you  a  little  before  we  make  our  visits  to  Santa 
Maria  Novella  and  Santa  Croce  to-morrow.  You 
will  understand  better  the  old  pictures  we  shall  see 
there  if  we  consider  beforehand  what  we  ought  to 
look  for  in  any  picture  or  other  work  of  art.  Too 
many  go  to  them  as  to  some  sort  of  recreation,  — 
gimply  for  amusement,  —  simply  to  gratify  their_ 


68  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

love  for  beautiful  color  and  form,  and  so,  to  these, 
the  most  beautiful  picture  is  always  the  best.  But 
this  is  a  low  estimate  of  the  great  art  of  painting, 
for  it  is  simply  one  of  man's  means  of  expression, 
just  as  music  or  poetry  is.  The  artist  learns  to 
compose  his  pictures,  to  draw  his  forms,  to  lay  on 
his  colors,  just  as  the  poet  learns  the  meanings  of 
words,  rhetorical  figures,  and  the  laws  of  harmony 

I  and  rhythm,  or  the  musician  his  notes  and  scales 
and  harmonies  of  sound." 

"  I  see  this  is  a  new  thought  to  you,"  continued 
he,  after  a  moment  spent  in  studying  the  faces 
about  him.  "  Let  us  follow  it.  What  is  the  use 
of  this  preparation  of  study  in  art,  poetry,  or 
music  ?  Is  it  solely  for  the  perfection  of  itself  ? 
We  often  hear  nowadays  the  expression,  'art  for 
art's  sake,'  and  by  some  it  is  accounted  a  grand 
thought  and  a  noble  rallying-cry  for  artists.  And 
so  it  truly  is  if  the  very  broadest  and  highest  pos- 
sible meaning  is  given  to  the  word  'art.'  If  it 
means  the  embodying  of  some  noble,  beautiful, 
soul-moving  thought  in  a  form  that  can  be  seen 
and  understood,  and  means  nothing  less  than  this, 
then  it  is  indeed  a  worthy  motto.  But  to  too 
many,  I  fear,  it  means  only  the  painting  of  beauty 
for  beauty's  sake.  That  is,  the  thought  embodied, 
the  message  to  some  soul,  which  every  picture 
ought  to  contain,  and  which  every  noble  picture 


A    NEW    FRIEND    APPEARS.  69 

that  is  worthy  to  live  must  contain,  becomes  of  lit- 
tle or  no  value  compared  with  the  play  of  color 
and  light  and  form. 

"  Let  me  explain  further,"  he  went  on,  even 
more  earnestly.  "  Imagine  that  we  are  looking  at 
a  picture,  and  we  admire  exceedingly  the  perfec- 
tion of  drawing  its  author  has  displayed,  —  the 
wonderful  breadth  of  composition,  —  the  harmony 
of  color-masses.  The  moment  is  full  of  keen" en- 
joyment for  us ;  but  the  vital  thing,  after  all,  is, 
what  impression  shall  we  take  away  with  us.  Has 
the  picture  borne  us  any  message  ?  Has  it  been 
either  an  interpretation  or  a  revelation  of  some- 
thing ?  Shall  we  remember  it  ? " 

"  But  is  not  simple  beauty  sometimes  a  revela- 
tion, Mr.  Sumner ?"  asked  Barbara,  —  "as  in  a 
landscape,  or  seascape,  or  the  painting  of  a  child's 
face  ? " 

"  Certainly,  if  the  artist  has  shown  by  his  work 
that  this  beauty  has  stirred  depths  of  feeling  in 
himself,  and  his  effort  has  been  to  reveal  what  he 
has  felt  to  others.  If  you  seek  to  find  this  in  pic- 
tures you  will  soon  learn  to  distinguish  between 
those  (too  many  of  which  are  painted  to-day) 
whose  only  excellence  lies  in  trick  of  handling 
or  cunning  disposition  of  color-masses,  —  because 
these  things  are  all  of  which  the  artist  has  thought, 
—  and  those  that  have  grown  out  of  the  highest 


7O  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

art-desire,  which  is  to  bear  some  message  of  the 
restfulness,  the  power,  the  beauty,  or  the  innocence 
of  nature  to  the  hearts  of  other  men. 

"  And  there  is  one  thing  more  that  we  must  not 
forget.  There  may  be  pictures  with  bad  motifs  as 
well  as  good  ones  —  weak  and  simple  ones,  as  well 
as  strong  and  holy  ones  —  and  yet  they  may  be  full 
of  all  artistic  qualities  of  representation.  What  is 
true  with  regard  to  literature  is  true  in  respect  to 
art.  It  is,  after  all,  the  message  that .  determines 
the  degree  of  nobility. 

"Art  was  given  for  that.     God  uses  us  to  help 

each  other  so, 
Lending  our  minds  out. 

wrote  Mr.  Browning,  and  we  should  always  en- 
deavor to  find  out  whether  the  artist  has  loaned 
his  mind  or  merely  his  fingers  and  his  knowledge 
of  the  use  of  his  materials.  If  we  find  thought 
in  his  picture,  we  should  then  ask  to  what  ser- 
vice he  has  put  it. 

"  If  a  poem  consist  only  of  words  and  rhythms, 
how  long  do  you  think  it  ought  to  live  ?  And  if 
a  picture  possess  merely  forms  and  colors,  how- 
ever beautiful  they  may  be,  it  deserves  no  more 
fame.  And  how  much  worse  if  there  be  mean- 
ing, and  it  be  base  and  unworthy !  " 

"Does  he  not  put  it  well?"  whispered  Mal- 
com  to  Bettina  from  his  usual  seat  between  her 


A    NEW    FRIEND    APPEARS.  /I 

and  Margery.  "  I  feel  as  if  he  were  pouring 
new  thoughts  into  me." 

"  Now,  the  one  thing  I  desire  to  impress  upon 
you  to-night,"  continued  Mr.  Sumner,  "is  that 
these  old  masters  of  painting  who  lived  in  the 
thirteenth,  fourteenth,  and  fifteenth  centuries  had 
messages  to  give  their  fellow-men.  Their  great 
endeavor  was  to  interpret  God's  word  to  them, 
—  you  know  that  in  those  days  and  in  this  land 
there  was  no  Bible  open  to  the  common  people,  — 
and  what  we  must  chiefly  look  for  in  their  pic- 
tures is  to  see  whether  or  not  they  told  the  mes- 
sage as  well  as  the  limitation  of  their  art-language 
permitted. 

"At  first,  no  laws  of  perspective  were  known. 
None  knew  how  to  draw  anything  correctly.  No 
color-harmonies  had  been  thought  of.  These  men 
must  needs  stammer  when  they  tried  to  express 
themselves ;  but  as  much  greater  as  thought  is 
than  the  mere  expression  of  it  so  much  greater  are 
many  of  their  works,  in  the  true  sense,  than  the 
mass  of  pictures  that  make  up  our  exhibitions  of 
the  present  day. 

"Then,  also,  it  is  a  source  of  the  deepest  in- 
terest to  one  who  loves  this  art  to  watch  its 
growth  in  means  of  expression  —  its  steady  de- 
velopment—  until,  finally,  we  find  the  noblest 
thoughts  expressed  in  perfect  forms  and  color- 


72  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

ing.  This  we  can  do  here  in  Florence  as  no- 
where else,  for  the  Florentine  school  of  painting 
was  the  first  of  importance  in  Italy. 

"So,"  he  concluded,  "do  not  look  for  beauty 
in  these  pictures  which  we  are  first  to  study ; 
instead  of  it,  you  will  find  much  ugliness.  But 
strive  to  put  yourselves  into  the  place  of  the  old 
artists,  to  feel  as  they  felt.  See  what  impelled 
them  to  paint.  Recognize  the  feebleness  of  their 
means  of  expression.  Watch  for  indications  in 
history  of  the  effect  of  their  pictures  upon  the 
people.  Strive  to  find  originality  in  them,  if  it 
be  there,  for  this  quality  gives  a  man's  work  a 
certain  positive  greatness  wherever  we  find  it; 
and  so  learn  to  become  worthy  judges  of  that 
which  you  study.  Soon,  like  me,  you  will  look 
with  pity  on  those  who  can  see  nothing  worthy 
of  a  second  glance  in  these  treasures  of  the  past. 

"  There !  I  have  preached  you  a  sermon,  I  am 
afraid.  Are  you  tired  ? "  and  his  bright  glance 
searched  the  faces  about  him. 

Their  expression  would  have  been  satisfactory 
without  the  eager  protestations  that  answered  his 
question. 

When,  a  little  later,  Barbara  and  Bettina,  each 
seated  before  her  dainty  toilet-table,  were  brush- 
ing their  hair,  they,  as  usual,  chatted  about  the 
events  of  the  day.  Never  had  there  been  so 


A    NEW    FRIEND    APPEARS.  73 

much  to  talk  over  and  so  little  time  to  do  it  in 
as  during  these  crowded  weeks,  when  pleasure 
and  study  were  hand  in  hand.  For  though  they 
read  and  studied,  yet  there  were  drives,  and  re- 
ceptions in  artists'  studios,  and,  because  of  Rob- 
ert Simmer's  long  residence  in  Florence,  they  had 
even  begun  to  receive  invitations  to  small  and 
select  parties,  where  they  met  charming  people. 

This  very  morning  they  had  driven  with  Mrs. 
Douglas  through  some  of  the  oldest  parts  of 
Florence.  They  were  reading  together  George 
Eliot's  "  Romola,"  and  were  connecting  all  its 
events  with  this  city  in  which  the  scenes  are 
laid.  Read  in  this  way,  it  seemed  like  a  new 
book  to  them,  and  possessed  an  air  of  reality 
that  awakened  their  enthusiasm  as  nothing  else 
could  have  done.  And  then  in  the  afternoon 
had  been  the  meeting  with  the  new  friend ;  tea 
in  the  little  garden  behind  the  house;  and  the 
evening  on  the  balcony. 

Naturally  their  conversation  soon  turned  to 
Howard  Sinclair. 

"  What  a  strange  life  for  one  so  young ! "  said 
Bettina.  "  Malcom  says  there  is  no  limit  to  his 
wealth.  He  lives  in  the  winter  in  one  of  those 
grandest  houses  on  Commonwealth  Avenue  in 
Boston,  and  has  summer  houses  in  two  or  three 
places.  And  yet  how  poor  in  many  ways ! "  she 


74  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

continued  after  a  little  pause  —  "so  much  poorer 
than  we !  No  father  and  mother,  —  no  brothers 
and  sisters,  —  and  forced  to  leave  his  home  because 
he  is  so  ill !  Poor  fellow  !  How  do  you  like  him, 
Bab  ?  He  seemed  to  admire  you  sufficiently,  for 
he  hardly  took  his  eyes  from  you." 

"Like  him?"  slowly  returned  Barbara.  "To 
tell  the  truth,  Betty,  I  hardly  know.  Somehow  I 
feel  strangely  about  him.  I  like  him  well  enough 
so  far,  but  I  believe  I  am  a  bit  afraid,  and  whether 
it  is  of  him  or  not,  I  cannot  tell.  Somehow  I 
feel  as  if  things  are  going  to  be  different  from 
what  they  have  been,  and — I  don't  know  —  I 
believe  I  almost  wish  Malcom  had  not  known 
him." 

"  Why,  Bab  dear !  what  do  you  mean  ?  Don't 
be  nervous ;  that  is  not  like  you.  Nothing  could 
happen  to  make  us  unhappy  while  we  are  with 
these  dear  people,  —  nothing,  that  is,  if  our  dear 
ones  at  home  are  well.  I  wish  he  had  not  stared 
at  you  so  much  with  those  great  eyes,  if  it  makes 
you  feel  uncomfortable,  but  how  he  could  have 
helped  admiring  you,  sister  mine,  is  more  than  I 
know,  —  for  you  were  lovely  beyond  everything 
this  afternoon;"  and  Betty  impulsively  sprang  up 
to  give  her  sister  a  hug  and  a  kiss. 

"  To  change  the  subject,"  she  added,  "  how  did 
you  like  Mr.  Sumner's  talk  this  evening  ? " 


A    NEW    FRIEND    APPEARS.  75 

"  Oh !  more  than  words  can  tell !  Betty,  I 
believe,  next  to  our  own  dear  papa,  he  is  the 
grandest  man  alive.  I  always  feel  when  he 
talks  as  if  nothing  were  too  difficult  to  attempt; 
as  if  nothing  were  too  beautiful  to  believe.  And 
he  is  so  young  too,  in  feeling;  so  wise  and  yet 
so  full  of  sympathy  with  all  our  young  non- 
sense. He  is  simply  perfect."  And  she  drew 
a  long  breath. 

"  I  think  so  too ;  and  he  practises  what  he 
preaches  in  his  own  painting.  For  don't  you 
remember  those  pictures  we  saw  in  his  studio 
the  other  day  ?  How  he  has  painted  those  Egyp- 
tian scenes  !  A  perfect  tremor  ran  over  me  as  I 
felt'the  terrible,  solemn  loneliness  of  that  one  camel 
and  his  rider  in  the  limitless  stretch  of  desert.  I 
felt  quite  as  he  must  have  felt,  I  am  sure ;  and  the 
desert  will  always  seem  a  different  thing  to  me 
because  I  looked  at  that  picture.  And  then  that 
sweet,  strong,  overcoming  woman's  face !  How 
much  she  had  lived  through  !  What  a  lesson  of 
triumph  over  all  weakness  and  sorrow  it  teaches ! 
I  am  so  thankful  every  minute  that  dear  Mrs. 
Douglas  asked  us  to  come  with  her,  that  our 
darling  papa  and  mamma  allowed  us  to  come, 
and  that  everything  is  so  pleasant  in  this  dear, 
delightful  Florence." 

And  Bettina  fell  asleep  almost  the  minute  her 


76  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

head   rested  on  her  pillow,  with  a  happy  smile 
curving  her  beautiful  lips. 

But  Barbara  tossed  long  on  the  little  white 
bed  in  the  opposite  corner  of  the  room.  It  was 
difficult  to  go  to  sleep,  so  many  thoughts  crowded 
upon  her.  Finally  she  resolutely  set  herself  to 
recall  Mr.  Sumner's  words  of  the  evening.  Then, 
as  she  remembered  the  little  lingering  of  his  eyes 
upon  her  own  as  he  bade  his  group  of  listeners 
good  night,  the  glad  thought  came,  "He  knows 
I  am  trying  to  learn,  and  that  I  appreciate  all 
he  is  doing  for  me,"  and  so  her  last  thought 
was  not  for  the  new  friend  the  day  had  brought, 
but  for  Robert  Sumner. 


Chapter  V. 
Straws  Show  which  Way  the  Wind  Blows, 


Give  these,  I  exhort  you,  their  guerdon  and  glory 
For  daring  so  mu(b  before  tkey  well  did  it. 

—  BROWNING. 


t.     SANTA    MARIA    NOVELLA,    FLORENCE. 


IT  was  a  charming  morning  in  early  November 
when  Mr.  Sumner  and  his  little  company  of 
students  of  Florentine  art  gathered  before  the 
broad  steps  which  lead  up  to  the  entrance  of  Santa 
Maria.  Novella.  The  Italian  sky,  less  soft  than  in 
midsummer,  gleamed  brightly  blue.  The  square 
tower  of  the  old  Fiesole  Cathedral  had  been 
sharply  defined  as  they  turned  to  look  at  it 
when  leaving  their  home ;  and  Giotto's  Campa- 
nile, of  which  they  had  caught  a  glimpse  on  their 
way  hither,  shone  like  a  white  lily  in  the  morning 
sunlight.  The  sweet,  invigorating  air,  the  bustle 
of  the  busy  streets,  the-  happiness  of  youth  and 
pleasant  expectancy  caused  all  hearts  to  beat  high, 
and  it  was  a  group  of  eager  faces  that  turned 
toward  the  grand  old  church  whose  marble  sides 
show  the  discoloration  of  centuries. 
•  79 


8o  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

At  Mr.  Sumner's  invitation  all  sat  on  the  steps 
in  a  sunny  corner  while  he  talked  of  Cimabue, 
— the  first  great  name  in  the  history  of  Italian 
painting, — the  man  who  was  great  enough  to 
dare  attempt  to  change  conditions  that  existed 
in  his  time,  which  was  the  latter  part  of  the  thir- 
teenth century.  He  told  them  how,  though  a 
nobleman  possessing  wealth  and  honor,  he  had 
loved  painting  and  had  given  his  life  to  it ;  and 
how,  having  been  a  man  arrogant  of  all  criticism, 
he  was  fitted  to  be  a  pioneer ;  to  break  from  old 
traditions,  and  to  infuse  life  into  the  dead  Byzan- 
tine art. 

He  told  them  how  the  people,  ever  quick  to  feel 
any  change,  were  delighted  to  recognize,  in  a 
picture,  life,  movement,  and  expression,  however 
slight.  How,  one  day  six  hundred  years  ago,  a 
gay  procession,  with  banners  and  songs,  bore  a 
large  painting,  the  Madonna  and  CJiild,  from  the 
artist's  studio,  quite  a  distance  away,  through  the 
streets  and  up  to  the  steps  on  which  they  were 
sitting;  and  how  priests  chanting  hymns  and 
bearing  church  banners  came  out  to  receive  the 
picture. 

"And  through  all  these  centuries  it  has  here 
remained,"  he  continued.  "  It  is,  of  course,  scarred 
by  time  and  dark  with  the  smoke  of  incense.  When 
you  look  upon  it  I  wish  you  would  remember  what 


STRAWS    SHOW    WHICH    WAY   THE    WIND    BLOWS.      8 1 

I  told  you  the  other  evening  about  that  for  which 
we  should  look  in  a  picture.  Be  sympathetic.  Put 
yourself  in  old  Cimabue's  place  and  in  that  of  the 
people  who  had  known  only  such  figures  in  paint- 
ing as  the  Magdalen  you  saw  last  week  in  the 
Academy.  Then,  though  these  figures  are  so  stiff 
and  almost  lifeless,  though  the  picture  is  Byzantine 
in  character,  you  will  see  beyond  all  this  a  faint 
expression  in  the  Madonna's  face,  a  little  life  and 
action  in  the  Christ-child,  who  holds  up  his  tiny 
hand  in  blessing. 

"If  you  do  not  look  for  this  you  may  miss  it,  — 
miss  all  that  which  gives  worth  to  Cimabue  and 
his  art.  As  thoughtful  a  mind  as  that  of  our  own 
Hawthorne  saw  only  the  false  in  it,  and  missed  the 
attempt  for  truth ;  and  so  said  he  only  wished  '  an- 
other procession  would  come  and  take  the  picture 
from  the  church,  and  reverently  burn  it.'  Ah, 
Malcom,  I  see  your  eyes  found  that  in  your  read- 
ing, and  you  thought  in  what  good  company  you 
might  be." 

"  What  kind  of  painting  is  it  ? "  queried  Barbara, 
as  a  few  minutes  later  they  stood  in  the  little 
chapel,  and  looked  up  at  Cimabue's  quaint  Madonna 
and  Child. 

"  It  is  called  tempera,  and  is  laid  upon  wood.  In 
this  process  the  paints  are  mixed  with  some  gluti- 
nous substance,  such  as  the  albumen  of  eggs,  glue, 


82  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

etc.,  which  causes  them  to  adhere  to  the  surface  on 
which  they  are  placed." 

"  What  do  you  think  was  the  cause  of  Cimabue's 
taking  such  an  advance  step,  Mr.  Sumner  ? "  asked 
Howard  Sinclair,  after  a  pause,  during  which  all 
studied  the  picture. 

"It  must  have  been  a  something  caught  from 
the  spirit  of  the  time.  A  stir,  an  awakening,  was 
taking  place  in  Italy.  Dante  and  Petrarch  were 
in  a  few  years  to  think  and  write.  The  time  had 
come  for  a  new  art." 

"  I  do  see  the  difference  between  this  and  those 
Academy  pictures,"  said  Bettina,  "even  though  it 
is  so  queer,  and  painted  in  such  colors." 

"And  I,"  "And  I,"  quickly  added  Barbara  and 
Margery. 

"  I  think  those  angels'  faces  are  interesting," 
continued  Barbara.  "They  are  not  all  just  alike, 
but  look  as  if  each  had  some  thought  of  his  own. 
They  seem  proud  of  their  burden  as  they  hold  up 
the  Madonna  and  Child." 

"  Oh,  nonsense,  Barbara !  you  are  putting  too 
much  imagination  in  there,"  exclaimed  Malcom. 
"  I  think  old  Cimabue  did  do  something,  but  it  is 
an  awfully  bad  picture,  after  all.  There  is  one 
thing,  though ;  it  is  not  so  flat  as  that  Academy 
Magdalen.  The  child's  head  seems  round,  and  I 
do  think  his  face  has  a  bit  of  expression." 


STRAWS    SHOW    WHICH    WAY    THE    WIND    BLOWS.      83 

So  they  looked  and  chatted  on,  and  took  little 
note  of  coming  and  going  tourists,  who  glanced 
with  curiosity  from  them  to  the  old  dark  picture 
above,  and  then  back  to  the  fresh,  eager,  beautiful 
faces,  —  the  greater  part  ever  finding  in  the  latter 
the  keener  attraction. 

"  I  always  have  one  thought  when  I  look  at 
this,"  finally  said  Mr.  Sumner,  "that  perhaps  will 
be  interesting  to  you,  and  linger  in  your  minds. 
This  Madonna  and  Child  seems  to  form  a  link  and 
also  to  mark  a  division  between  all  those  which 
went  before  it  in  Christian  art  and  all  those  that 
have  followed.  It  is  the  last  Byzantine  Madonna, 
and  is  the  first  of  the  long,  noble  list  which  has 
come  from  the  hands  of  artists  who  have  lived 
since  the  thirteenth  century. 

"  We  will  not  stay  here  longer  now,  for  I  know 
you  will  come  again  more  than  once  to  study  it. 
There  is  much  valuable  historic  art  in  this  church 
which  you  will  understand  better  when  you  have 
learned  more.  Yonder  in  the  Strozzi  Chapel  is  ^ 
some  of  the  very  best  work  of  an  old  painter  called  \ 
Orcagna,  while  here  in  the  choir  are  notable  fres- 
coes by  Ghirlandajo ;  but  now  I  shall  take  you 
down  these  steps  between  the  two  into  the  cloisters, 
and  there  we  will  talk  of  Giotto.  I  know  how  busy 
you  have  been  reading  about  this  wonderful  old 
master,  for  I  could  not  help  hearing  snatches  of/ 


84  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

(your  talk  about  him  all  through  the  past  week. 

fHis  figure  looms  up  most  important  of  all  among 
the  early  painters  of  Florence.  You  know  how 

''Cimabue,  clad  in  his  scarlet  robe  and  hood,  insignia 
of  nobility,  riding  out  one  day  to  a  little  town  lying 
on  one  of  yonder  blue  hills,  found  a  little,  dark- 
faced  shepherd-boy  watching  his  father's  sheep, 
and  amusing  himself  by  drawing  a  picture  of  one, 
with  only  a  sharp  stone  for  a  pencil.  Interested 

-in  the  boy,  he  took  pains  to  visit  his  father  and 
gain  his  permission  to  take  him  as  a  pupil  to 
Florence.  So  Giotto  came  to  begin  his  art-life. 

IWhat  are  you  thinking  of,  little  Margery?" 

"  Only  a  bit  of  Dante's  writing  which  I  read 
with  mother  the  other  day,"  said  she,  blushing. 
"  I  was  thinking  how  little  Cimabue  then  thought 
that  this  poor,  ignorant  shepherd-boy  would  ever 
cause  these  lines  to  be  written  :  — 

"Cimabue  thought  to  lord  it  over  painting's  field  : 
But  now  the  cry  is  Giotto,  and  his  name's  eclipsed." 

"  Yes,  indeed !  Giotto  did  eclipse  his  master's 
name,  for  he  went  so  much  farther,  —  but  only  in 
the  same  path,  however ;  so  we  must  not  take  from 
Cimabue  any  of  the  honor  that  is  due  him.  But 
by  Giotto  the  old  Byzantine  method  of  painting  on 
flat  gold  backgrounds  was  abolished.  This  boy, 
though  born  of  peasants,  was  not  only  gifted  with 


STRAWS    SHOW    WHICH    WAY   THE   WIND    BLOWS.      85 

keen  powers  of  observation  of  nature  and  mankind 
and  a  devotion  to  the  representation  of  things 
truly  as  they  are,  but,  beyond  and  above  all  this, 
with  one  other  quality  that  made  his  work  of 
incalculable  worth  to  the  people  among  whom  he 
painted.  This  was  a  delicate  appreciation  of  the 
true  relations  between  earthly  and  spiritual  things. 

"  Before  him,  as  we  have  seen,  all  art  was  most 
unnatural  and  monastic,  —  utterly  destitute  of  sym- 
pathy with  the  feelings  of  the  common  people. 
Giotto  changed  all  this.  He  made  the  Christ-child 
a  loving  baby ;  the  Madonna  a  loving  mother  into 
whose  joy  and  suffering  all  mothers'  hearts  could 
enter ;  angels  were  servants  of  men ;  miracles 
were  wrought  by  God  because  He  loved  and  desired 
to  help  men ;  the  pictured  men  and  women  were 
like  themselves  because  they  smiled  and  grieved 
and  acted  even  as  they  did.  All  this  change 
Giotto  made  in  the  spirit  of  pictures ;  and  in  the 
ways  of  painting  he  also  wrought  a  complete  revo- 
lution. '  There  are  no  such  things  as  gold  back- 
grounds in  nature,'  he  said ;  '  I  will  have  my  people 
out  of  doors  or  in  their  homes.'  And  so  he 
painted  the  blue  sky  and  rocks  and  trees  and 
grass,  and  dressed  his  men  and  women  in  pure, 
fresh  colors,  and  represented  them  as  if  engaged  in 
home  duties  in  the  house  or  in  the  field.  He  intro- 
duced many  characters  into  his  story  pictures,— 


86  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

angel  visitants,  neighbors,  wandering  shepherds, 
and  even  domestic  animals.  He  brought  the  art 
of  painting  down  into  the  minds  and  hearts  of  all 
who  looked  upon  them." 

"  I  never  have  realized  until  lately,"  said  Bar- 
bara, "  how  painting  can  be  made  a  source  of  educa- 
tion and  pleasure  to  everybody.  It  is  so  different 
here  from  what  it  is  at  home,  especially  because 
the  churches  are  full  of  pictures.  There  we  go 
into  the  art  museums  or  the  galleries  of  different 
art-clubs,  —  the  only  places  where  pictures  are 
to  be  found,  —  and  meet  only  those  people  that 
can  afford  luxuries  ;  and  so  the  art  itself  seems  a 
luxury.  (  But  here  I  have  seen  such  poor,  sad-look- 
ing people,  who  seem  to  forget  all  their  miseries  in 
looking  at  some  beautiful  sacred  picture,  j  Only  the 
other  day  I  overheard  a  poor  woman,  whose  clothes 
were  wretched  and  who  had  one  child  in  her  arms 
and  another  beside  her,  trying  to  explain  a  picture 
to  them,  and  she  lingered  and  lin'gered  before  it, 
and  then  turned  away  with  a  pleased,  restful  face." 

"  Yes,  it  is  the  spirit  of  pictures  and  their  truth 
to  nature  that  appeal  to  the  mass  of  people  here," 
replied  Mr.  Sumner,  "and  so  it  must  be  every- 
where. I  have  been  very  glad  to  read  in  my 
papers  from  home  that  free  art  exhibitions  have 
been  occasionally  opened  in  the  poor  quarters  of 
our  cities.  Should  the  movement  become  general, 


STRAWS    SHOW    WHICH    WAY    THE    WIND    BLOWS.      8/ 

as  I  hope  it  will,  it  must  work  good  in  more  than 
one  direction.  Not  only  could  those  who  have 
hitherto  been  shut  out  from  this  means  of  pleasure 
and  education  receive  and  profit  by  it,  but  the  art 
itself  would  gain  a  wholesome  impulse.  A  new  class 
of  critics  would  be  heard  —  those  unversed  in  art- 
parlance  —  who  would  not  talk  of  line,  tone,  color- 
harmonies  and  technique,  but  would  go  to  the  very 
heart  of  picture  and  painter  ;  and  1  think  the  truest 
artists  would  listen  to  them  and  so  gain  something. 

"  But  we  must  get  to  Giotto  again.  I  have  told 
you  what  he  tried  to  paint,  but  you  will  see  that 
he  could  not  do  all  this  in  the  least  as  if  he  had 
been  taught  in  our  art-schools  of  to-day.  How 
little  could  Cimabue  teach  him !  His  hills  and 
rocks  are  parodies  of  nature.  He  knew  not  how 
to  draw  feet,  and  would  put  long  gowns  or  stock- 
ings on  his  people  so  as  to  hide  his  deficiency.  He 
never  could  make  a  lying-down  figure  look  flat  But 
how  he  could  accomplish  all  that  he  did  in  his 
pictures  is  more  than  any  one  can  explain. 

"  We  will  now  look  behind  this  grand  tomb  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairs  and  find  two  of  Giotto's  frescoes. 
There  you  see  the  pictures  —  the  Birth  of  the  Vir- 
gin and  the  Meeting  of  St.  Joachim  and  St.  Anna, 
the  father  and  mother  of  the  Virgin.  Do  you 
know  the  story  of  these  saints  ? " 

"Yes,"  answered  Malcom,  "Betty  read  it  to  us 


88  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

last  evening,  for,  you  see,  uncle,  we  had  been 
dipping  just  a  bit,  so  as  not  to  get  below  our 
depth,  into  Mr.  Ruskin's  'Mornings  in  Florence'; 
so  we  ought  to  be  able  to  understand  something 
here,  if  anywhere,  oughtn't  we  ? " 

"Well,  look  and  see  what  you  can  find!  I 
wonder  what  will  appeal  first  to  each  one  of  you!" 

After  a  few  minutes  of  complete  silence  Mr. 
Sumner  said :  "  Margery  dear,  I  wonder  what  you 
are  thinking  of  ? " 

"I  am  thinking,  Uncle,  that,  just  as  Mr.  Ruskin 
says,  I  cannot  help  seeing  the  baby  in  this  picture. 
At  whatever  part  I  look  my  eyes  keep  coming 
back  to  the  dear  little  thing  wrapped  up  so 
clumsily,  whom  the  two  nurses  are  tending  so 
lovingly  and  with  such  reverence." 

"Yes,  my  dear,  old  Giotto  knew  how  to  make 
the  chief  thing  in  his  pictures  seem  to  be  the  most 
important ;  something  that  not  all  of  us  artists  of 
to-day  know  how  to  do  by  any  means." 

"  But  the  pictures  are  so  queer ! "  burst  forth 
Malcom.  "  I  do  see  some  of  the  fine  things  of 
which  you  speak,  Uncle  Robert,  but  there  are  so 
many  almost  ridiculous  things ;  the  shepherds  that 
are  following  St.  Joachim  —  do  look  at  the  feet  of 
the  first  one ;  and  the  second  has  on  stockings.  I 
can  see  the  different  lines  that  poor  old  Giotto 
drew  when  he  was  struggling  over  those  first  feet ; 


STRAWS    SHOW    WHICH    WAY    THE    WIND    BLOWS.      89 

I  wonder  if  he  put  the  others  into  stockings  just  to 
save  trying  to  draw  them.  And  the  funny  lamb  in 
the  arms  of  the  first  shepherd ;  and  the  queer,  stiff 
sprigs  of  grass  which  are  growing  up  in  all  sorts 
of  places  !  and  the  angel  coming  out  of  the  cloud  ! 
and  —  " 

"  Do  stop,  Malcom,"  cried  Bettina,  "just  here  at 
the  angel !  Why  !  I  think  he  is  perfectly  beautiful 
with  one  hand  on  St.  Joachim's  head  and  the  other 
on  St.  Anna's.  He  is  blessing  them  and  drawing 
them  together  and  forgiving,  all  in  one." 

"  And  the  people,  all  of  them !  just  look  at  the 
people ! "  cried  Barbara,  impetuously.  "  Each  one 
is  thinking  of  something,  and  I  seem  to  know  what 
it  is  !  How  could  — "  But  her  voice  faltered,  and 
stopped  abruptly. 

"  It  is  not  difficult  to  understand  what  Howard 
is  thinking  of,"  whispered  Malcom  in  Bettina's  ear. 
"  Did  you  see  what  a  look  he  gave  Barbara  ?  I 
don't  believe  she  likes  it." 

Mr.  Sumner,  turning,  surprised  the  same  look  in 
the  young  man's  eyes  and  gave  a  quick,  inquiring 
glance  at  the  fair,  flushed  face  of  Barbara.  He 
felt  annoyed,  without  knowing  exactly  why.  A 
new  and  foreign  element  had  been  introduced  into 
the  little  group,  whose  influence  was  not  to  be 
transient. 

After  a  few  more  words,  in  which  he  told  them 


9O  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

to  notice  the  type  of  Giotto's  faces  —  the  eyes  set 
near  together,  their  too  great  length,  though  much 
better  in  this  respect  than  Cimabue's,  and  the 
broad,  rounded  chins  —  they  turned  away. 

"We  have  seen  all  we  ought  to  stay  here  for 
to-day,  and  now  we  will  drive  over  to  Santa  Croce. 
There  are  also  notable  frescoes  by  Giotto  in  Assisi, 
and  especially  in  the  Arena  Chapel,  Padua.  Per- 
haps we  may  see  them  all  by  and  by." 

On  leaving  the  church,  Bettina  looked  back, 
saying :  — 

"  This  is  the  church  that  Michael  Angelo  used 
to  call  '  his  bride.'  " 

"Used  to,"  laughed  Malcom.  "You  have  gone 
back  centuries  this  morning,  Betty." 

"  I  feel  so.  I  should  not  be  one  bit  surprised  to 
meet  some  of  these  old  artists  right  here  in  the 
Piazza,  on  their  way  to  their  work." 

"  Let  us  go  over  to  Santa  Croce  by  way  of  the 
Duomo,  and  through  Piazza.  Signoria,  Uncle,"  said 
Margery.  "  I  am  never  tired  of  those  little,  narrow, 
crooked  streets." 

"  Yes,  that  will  be  a  good  way ;  for  then  we 
shall  go  right  past  Giotto's  Campanile,  and  though 
you  have  seen  it  often  you  will  look  upon  it  with 
especial  interest  just  now,  when  we  are  studying 
his  work." 

At  Santa  Croce  they  were  to  meet  Mrs.  Douglas 


STRAWS    SHOW    WHICH    WAY    THE    WIND    BLOWS.      9! 

by  appointment ;  and  as  they  pressed  on  through 
the  broad  nave,  lined  on  either  side  by  massive 
monuments  to  Florence's  great  dead,  they  espied 
her  at  the  entrance  of  the  Bardi  Chapel  in  con- 
versation with  a  lady  whose  slender  figure  and 
bright,  animated  face  grew  familiar  to  the  young 
people  of  the  steamship  as  they  approached ;  for 
it  was  the  Miss  Sherman  whom  Barbara  and  Bettina 
had  admired  so  much  on  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm,  and 
whom,  with  her  father  and  sister,  they  had  met 
once  before  in  this  same  church. 

Coming  rapidly  forward,  Mrs.  Douglas  intro- 
duced her  companion. 

"She  is  alone  in  Florence,"  she  explained  to 
her  brother  a  moment  later  when  the  others  had 
passed  on,  "  for  her  father  has  been  suddenly 
summoned  home,  and  her  sister  has  accompanied 
him.  She  is  a  bright,  charming  young  woman, 
who  loves  art  dearly,  and  I  am  sure  we  all  shall 
like  her.  I  felt  drawn  to  her  as  we  talked  to- 
gether several  times  on  our  way  over.  I  think  we 
must  have  her  with  us  all  we  can." 

After  an  hour  spent  in  the  Barjii  and  Peruzgi 
Chapels,  whose  walls  are  covered  with  Giotto's 
frescoes,  the  little  group  separated.  Malcom, 
Margery,  Barbara,  and  Bettina  walked  home  along 
the  Via  dei  Pinti,  or  Street  of  the  Painters.  While 
the  others  chatted,  Barbara  was  unusually  silent. 


92  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

She  was  thinking  how  much  she  had  learned  that 
morning,  and  exulted  in  the  knowledge  that  there 
was  not  quite  so  vast  a  difference  between  herself 
and  Miss  Sherman  as  existed  the  last  time  they 
met  in  Santa  Croce. 

For  Barbara  had  entered  into  the  study  of  this 
subject  with  an  almost  feverish  fervor  of  endeavor. 
Though  she  felt  there  was  much  to  enjoy  and  to 
learn  all  about  her,  yet  nothing  seemed  so  impor- 
tant as  a  knowledge  of  the  old  painters  and  their 
pictures ;  and  the  longing  to  be  able  to  think  and 
to  speak  with  some  assurance  of  them  haunted  her 
continually. 

Bettina  sometimes  looked  at  her  sister  with  won- 
der as  she  would  sit  hour  after  hour  poring  over 
Mr.  Sumner's  books. 

"  I  always  thought  7  loved  pictures  best,"  she 
thought ;  "  but  Bab  cares  more  for  these  old  ones 
than  I  do." 


Chapter  VI. 
Lucile  Sherman. 


In  life' i  small  thing}  be  resolute  and  great 
To  keep  thy  muscle  trained ;   Knoiuest  tbou  when  Fate 
Thy  measure  takes  f      Or  -when  she'll  say  to  tbeey 
"  I  find  tbee  worthy.      Do  this  deed  for  me  f  " 

— LOWELL. 


A    GLIMPSE    OF    FLORENCE. 


THE  tourist  who  devotes  a  few  days  to  Flor- 
ence, or  a  few  weeks  even,  can  have  no  con- 
ception of  what  it  means  to  live  in  this  city  ;  to 
awake  morning  after  morning  and  look  out  upon 
the  lines  of  her  hills  and  catch  glimpses  of  their 
distant  blues  and  purples ;  to  be  free  to  wander 
about  at  will%  through  her  streets,  every  one  of 
which  is  crowded  with  legend  and  romance ;  to 
look  upon  her  palaces  and  churches,  about  which 
cluster  so  many  deeds  of  history ;  to  visit  the 
home?  of  her  immortal  men  —  poets  and  artists ; 
to  walk  step  by  step  instead  of  whirling  along  in 
a  carriage ;  and  to  grow  to  feel  a  close  intimacy 
with  her  sculptures  and  paintings,  and  even  with 
the  very  stones  that  are  built  into  her  palace  walls. 
For  Florence  is  comparatively  a  small  city.  A 
good  pedestrian  can  easily  walk  from  Porta  Ro- 
95 


96  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

raana  on  the  south  to  Porta  Gallo  on  the  north ;  or 
from  Porta  San  Niccolo  on  the  east,  along  the 
banks  of  the  Arno,  to  the  Cascine  Gardens  on  the 
west.  It  is  only  an  afternoon  of  genuine  delight 
to  climb  the  lovely,  winding  ways  leading  up  to 
San  Miniato,  or  to  Fiesole,  or  to  the  Torre  del 
Gallo,  — the  "  Star  Tower  of  Galileo."  And  what 
a  feeling  of  possession  one  has  for  a  road  which  he 
has  travelled  foot  by  foot ;  for  the  rocks  and  trees 
and  vine-covered  walls,  and  the  ever-changing 
views  which  continually  demand  attention !  One 
absorbs  and  assimilates  as  in  no  other  way. 

So  when,  at  breakfast  one  morning,  Mr.  Sum- 
ner  suggested  a  walk  up  to  Fiesole,  a  picnic  lunch 
at  the  top  in  the  grounds  of  the  old  monastery,  and 
the  whole  day  there,  coming  down  at  sunset,  his 
proposition  met  with  delighted  assent.  It  was 
planned  that  Mrs.  Douglas  should  take  a  carriage, 
and  invite  Miss  Sherman  and  Howard  Sinclair  to 
go  with  her,  but  the  others  were  ready  and  eager 
for  the  walk.  Anita,  the  little  housemaid,  was  to 
accompany  them  and  carry  the  luncheon,  and  she 
was  on  tiptoe  with  joy,  because  a  whole  day  under 
the  open  sky  is  the  happiest  fortune  possible  for 
an  Italian  girl ;  and,  besides  this,  they  would  have 
to  pass  close  by  her  own  home,  and  perhaps  her 
little  brother  could  go  with  her. 

All  felt  a  peculiar  affection  for  Fiesole,  because 


LUCILE   SHERMAN.  97 

from  the  house  in  which  they  were  living  they 
could  look  right  out  upon  the  historic  old  city  nest- 
ling into  the  hollow  of  the  hill-top,  and  watch  its 
changing  lights  and  shadows,  and  say  "good  morn- 
ing "  and  "  good  night "  to  it. 

Barbara  and  Bettina  had  often  tried  to  fancy 
what  life  there  was  like  so  many  centuries  ago, 
when  the  city  was  rich  and  powerful ;  and  after- 
ward, when  the  old  Romans  had  taken  possession 
of  it,  and  the  ruined  amphitheatre  was  whole  and 
noisy  with  games;  or  in  later  times,  when  the 
venerable  Cathedral  was  fresh  and  new.  They  felt 
a  kind  of  pity  for  the  forlorn  old  place,  peopled 
with  so  much  wrinkled  age,  and  forever  looking 
down  upon  all  the  loveliness  and  treasures  of  the 
fair  Florence  which  had  grown  out  from  her  own 
decay. 

As  the  party  left  the  house,  and,  before  dis- 
appearing from  the  view  of  Mrs.  Douglas,  who 
stood  watching  them,  turned  and  waved  their 
hands,  she  thought  that  she  had  not  seen  her 
brother  looking  so  young,  care-free,  and  happy 
for  many  years. 

"  This  is  doing  Robert  a  world  of  good,"  said 
she  to  herself.  "Those  who  have  heretofore 
been  only  children  to  him  are  now  companions, 
and  he  is  becoming  a  boy  again  with  them.  Oh  ! 
if  he  could  only  throw  off  the  morbid  feeling  he 


98  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

has  had  about  going  back  to  America  to  live, 
and  return  with  us,  and  be  happy  and  useful 
there,  how  delightful  it  would  be ! " 

Second  only  in  the  life  of  Mrs.  Douglas  to 
the  great  loss  of  her  husband  had  been  the 
separation  from  this  dearly  loved  brother,  and 
it  was  one  of  the  strongest  wishes  of  her  heart 
that  he  should  come  back  to  his  native  land. 
To  have  him  living  near  her  and  experiencing 
the  delights  of  home  life  had  been  a  long  dream 
of  whose  realization  she  had  wellnigh  despaired, 
as  year  after  year  had  passed  and  he  had  still 
lingered  in  foreign  lands.  Now,  as  she  turned 
from  the  window  and  went  back  into  the  large, 
sunny  rooms,  so  quiet  with  the  young  people  all 
gone,  her  thoughts  lingered  upon  her  brother, 
and  into  them  came  the  remembrance  of  the 
sweet-faced  Miss  Sherman,  whom  they  had  met 
yesterday  and  who  seemed  destined  to  come 
more  or  less  into  their  lives. 

"  Perhaps  "  —  she  thought,  and  smiled  at  her 
thought  so  evidently  born  of  her  wish ;  and  then 
hastened  to  despatch  a  message  to  Miss  Sher- 
man and  Howard,  lest  she  might  miss  them. 

Lucile  Sherman  differed  somewhat  in  charac- 
ter from  the  impression  she  had  made  upon 
Mrs.  Douglas.  Lovely  in  face  and  figure,  gifted 
with  winning  ways,  possessed  of  a  certain  de- 


LUCILE   SHERMAN.  99 

gree  of  culture,  and  very  desirous  of  gaming 
the  friendship  of  cultured  people,  she  was  most 
attractive  on  short  acquaintance.  An  intimacy 
must  always  reveal  her  limitations  and  show  how 
she  just  missed  the  best  because  of  the  lack  of 
any  definite,  earnest  purpose  in  her  life,  —  of 
real  sincerity  and  of  the  slightest  element  of  self- 
sacrifice,  without  which  no  character  can  grow 
truly  noble. 

She  was  very  dear  unto  herself,  and  was 
accustomed  to  take  the  measure  of  all  things 
according  to  the  way  in  which  they  affected 
Lucile  Sherman.  When  her  father,  for  whose 
health  the  present  journey  to  Italy  had  been 
primarily  planned,  was  imperatively  summoned 
home,  her  disappointment  was  so  overwhelmingly 
apparent  that  her  sister  Marion  was  chosen  to 
accompany  him  back  to  America,  and  Lucile 
was  permitted  to  spend  the  winter  as  she  so 
much  wished. 

She  was  fond  of  society,  of  music,  of  literature 
and  art;  had  seemingly  an  enthusiastic  admira- 
tion and  desire  for  all  things  good  and  true,  and 
thought  she  embodied  all  her  desires ;  but  these 
were  ever  a  little  too  languid  to  subdue  the  self- 
love  and  overcome  the  inertia  of  all  high  prin- 
ciples of  life.  It  is  not  difficult  to  understand 
her,  for  the  world  has  many  such,  —  in  whom 


IOO  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

there  is  nothing  really  bad,  only  they  have 
missed  the  best. 

On  board  the  steamship,  she  had  been  much 
attracted  by  the  little  party  from  Boston,  and 
had  made  advances  toward  Mrs.  Douglas ;  and 
when,  on  that  day  so  soon  after  reaching  Flor- 
ence, she  had  met  Mr.  Sumner  and  the  young 
people  in  Santa  Croce,  her  remark  that  it  was 
worth  a  journey  from  America  just  to  see  Giotto's 
frescoes  there  —  the  remark  that  had  won  a  look 
of  interest  from  Mr.  Sumner,  and  that  poor  Bar- 
bara had  brooded  over  because  it  had  caused 
her  to  feel  so  sorely  her  own  ignorance  —  had 
been  spoken  with  the  design  that  it  should  be 
overheard  by  that  distinguished-looking  man  who, 
she  felt  sure,  must  be  the  artist-brother  whom 
Mrs.  Douglas  had  come  to  Italy  to  meet ;  and 
though  she  did  enjoy  the  old  Florentine  mas- 
ters very  much  indeed,  yet  she  had  haunted  the 
churches  and  galleries  a  little  more  persistently 
than  she  would  otherwise  have  done,  in  the 
hope  that  fortune  might  some  day  favor  her  by 
granting  a  meeting  with  Mrs.  Douglas  and  her 
brother.  All  things  come  to  those  who  wish  and 
wait;  and  so  the  time  came  when  Mrs.  Douglas 
found  her  in  Santa  Croce,  and  the  desired  in- 
troduction and  invitations  were  given. 

When,  therefore,  the  request  that  she  join  the 


LUCILE   SHERMAN.  IOI 

picnic  party  on  Fiesole  reached  her,  and  was 
soon  followed  by  Mrs.  Douglas's  carriage,  Miss 
Sherman's  satisfaction  knew  no  bounds.  The 
lovely  eyes,  that  Barbara  and  Bettina  had  so 
much  admired,  were  more  softly  brilliant  than 
ever  in  their  expression  of  happiness,  and  Mrs. 
Douglas  looked  the  admiration  she  felt  for  her 
young  companion. 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Sumner,  Malcom,  Margery, 
Barbara,  and  Bettina  had  gloriously  enjoyed  the 
walk  out  of  the  city  through  Porta  Gallo,  along  the 
banks  of  the  Mugello,  up  the  first  slope  of  the  hill, 
past  Villa  Palmieri,  and  upward  to  San  Domenico, 
—  church  and  monastery,  —  which  stands  about 
half  way  to  the  top. 

Here  they  stopped  to  rest,  and  to  talk  for  a  few 
minutes  about  Fra  Angelico,  the  painter-monk, 
whose  name  has  rendered  historic  every  spot  on 
which  he  lived. 

Mr.  Sumner  told  them  very  briefly  how  two 
young  men  —  brothers,  hardly  more  than  boys  — 
had  come  hither  one  day  from  the  country  over 
yonder,  the  same  country  where  Giotto  had  lived 
when  a  child,  about  one  hundred  years  before,  and 
had  become  monks  in  this  monastery.  They  took 
the  names  of  Giovanni  and  Benedetto;  and  Gio- 
vanni, or  John,  as  it  is  in  English,  was  afterward 
called  Fra  Angelico  by  his  brethren  because  his 


IO2  BARBARA'S    HERITAGE. 

life  was  so  holy,  or  because,  as  some  say,  he 
painted  angels  more  pure  and  beautiful  than  have 
ever  been  pictured  before  or  since.  He  lived  here 
many  years  before  he  was  transferred  with  his 
brethren  to  the  monastery  of  San  Marco  down 
in  Florence,  and  painted  several  pictures  in  this 
church,  only  a  part  of  one  of  which  is  remaining. 
Little  did  the  young  monk  think,  as  he  painted 
here  in  humility,  that  one  day  emissaries  from 
the  great  unknown  world  would  come  hither, 
cut  his  frescoes  out  of  the  walls,  and  bear  them 
away  to  foreign  art  galleries,  there  to  be  treas- 
ured beyond  all  price." 

They  went  into  the  church  to  give  a  look  at  the 
remaining  picture  over  the  altar  in  the  choir,  a 
Virgin  with  Saints  and  Angels,  the  lower  part,  or 
predella,  of  which  is  now  in  the  National  Gallery, 
London ;  but  Mr.  Sumner  said  they  must  not  stay 
long,  for  this  was  not  the  object  of  the  day.  Since, 
however,  Fra  Angelico  was  to  be  their  next  subject 
of  study,  he  wished  them  to  know  all  about  him 
they  possibly  could  before  going  to  San  Marco  to 
really  study  his  pictures. 

Lingering  on  the  terrace  outside,  they  looked  at 
the  lovely  Villa  Landor  close  at  hand,  where  the 
English  poet,  Walter  Savage  Landor,  spent  several 
years.  Here  Malcom  quoted,  in  a  quietly  impres- 
sive way :  — 


LUCILE   SHERMAN.  IO3 

"From  France  to  Italy  my  steps  I  bent, 
And  pitcht  at  Arno's  side  my  household  tent. 
Six  years  the  Medicean  Palace  held 
My  wandering  Lares  ;  then  they  went  afield, 
Where  the  hewn  rocks  of  Fiesole  impend 
O'er  Doccia's  dell,  and  fig  and  olive  blend/' 

"  How  did  you  come  to  know  that? "  asked  Mar- 
gery, the  usual  poetry  quoter. 

"  I  didn't  have  to  go  far  for  it.  I  came  across  it 
in  my  '  Hare's  Florence,'  and  I  rather  think  the 
quaint  fancy  of  the  Lares  '  going  afield  '  caught  my 
attention  so  that  I  cannot  lose  the  words." 

"  It  is  easier  to  think  how  one  must  write  poetry 
in  such  a  lovely  spot  than  how  one  could  help  it," 
said  Bettina,  with  shining  eyes. 

"Or  could  help  painting  pictures,"  added  Bar- 
bara. "Just  look  at  the  colors  of  sky,  hills,  and 
city.  No  wonder  Fra  Angelico  thought  of  angels 
with  softly  glittering  wings  and  dressed  in  exquisite 
pinks  and  violets,  when  he  lived  here  day  after 
day." 

"Just  wait,  though,  until  we  come  down  at  sun- 
set," said  Mr.  Sumner.  "This  is  indeed  beautiful, 
but  then  it  will  be  most  beautiful,  and  you  can 
enjoy  the  changing  colors  of  sunset  over  Florence, 
as  seen  from  Fiesole,  far  better  as  we  loiter  along 
on  the  road,  as  we  shall  do  to-night,  than  when  in  a 
carriage,  as  we  were  two  or  three  weeks  ago.  Of 
course,  there  is  less  color  now  than  in  summer,  yet 


IO4  BARBARAS    HERITAGE. 

it  will  be  glorious,  I  am  sure.  We  are  most  fortu- 
nate in  our  choice  of  a  day,  for  it  is  warm,  with  a 
moisture  in  the  atmosphere  that  veils  forms  and 
enriches  color.  We  should  call  it  '  Indian  sum- 
mer '  were  we  at  home." 

Before  they  had  quite  reached  the  old  city  at 
the  top,  the  carriage  containing  Mrs.  Douglas, 
Miss  Sherman,  and  Howard  overtook  them,  and 
the  latter  sprang  out  to  join  the  walking-party. 

Such  a  day  as  followed !  Lunch  in  the  grove 
behind  the  ancient  Monastery !  —  visits  to  the 
ruined  Amphitheatre,  the  Cathedral,  and  Museum 
so  full  of  all  sorts  of  antiquities  obtained  from  the 
excavations  of  ancient  Fiesole !  —  loitering  in  the 
spacious  Piazza,  where  they  were  beset  by  children 
and  weather-beaten,  brown  old  women,  clamoring 
for  them  to  buy  all  sorts  of  things  made  of  the 
straw  there  manufactured;  and  everywhere  mag- 
nificent views,  either  of  the  widely  extended  valley 
of  the  Mugnone  on  the  one  side,  or  of  Florence, 
lying  in  her  amethystine  cup,  on  the  other ! 

Finally,  giving  orders  for  the  carriage  to  follow 
within  a  certain  time,  so  that  any  tired  one  might 
take  it,  all  started  down  the  hill.  They  soon  met 
a  procession  of  young  Franciscan  monks,  chanting 
a  hymn  as  they  walked  —  their  curious  eyes 
stealing  furtive  glances  at  the  beautiful  faces  of 
the  American  ladies. 


LUCILE    SHERMAN.  IO5 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  were  a  part  of  the  fourteenth 
century,"  said  Miss  Sherman.  "Surely  Fra 
Angelico  might  be  one  of  those  passing  us." 

"Only  he  would  have  worn  a  white  gown 
instead  of  a  brown  one,"  replied  Mrs.  Douglas, 
smiling.  "  You  know  he  was  a  Dominican  monk, 
not  Franciscan." 

"  But  look  on  the  other  side  of  the  road,"  cried 
Malcom,  "  and  hear  the  buzzing  of  the  wires !  an 
electric  tramway  !  Here  meet  the  fourteenth  and 
the  nineteenth  centuries  !  " 

In  a  minute  it  all  had  happened.  Just  how, 
no  one  knew.  An  agonized  scream  from  the  little 
maid,  Anita,  who  was  walking  behind  them,  a 
momentary  sight  of  the  tiny,  brown-faced  Italian 
boy,  her  brother,  right  in  the  pathway  of  the 
swinging  car  as  it  rounded  the  curve  —  Malcom's 
spring  —  and  then  the  boy  and  himself  lying  out 
on  the  roadside  against  the  wall. 

The  vigorous  crying  of  the  little  boy  as  he 
rushed  into  his  sister's  arms,  evinced  his  safety, 
but  there  was  a  quiet  about  Malcom  that  was 
terrifying. 

He  had  succeeded  in  throwing  the  child  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  car,  but  had  himself  been  struck 
by  it,  and  consciousness  was  gone. 

The  little  group,  so  happy  a  moment  before, 
now  hung  over  him  in  silent  fear  and  agony. 


io6  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Howard  hastened  back  to  get  the  carriage,  and 
returned  to  find  Malcom  slowly  struggling  to 
awaken,  but  when  moved,  he  again  fainted ;  and 
so,  lying  in  his  uncle's  arms,  with  his  pale  mother 
and  tearful  Margery  sitting  in  front,  and  the 
others,  frightened  and  sympathetic,  hurrying 
behind,  Malcom  was  brought  home  through  the 
wonderful  sunset  glow  upon  which  not  one  be- 
stowed a  single  thought. 


Chapter  VII. 
A  Startling  Disclosure. 


*  Tts  even  tbui  : 

In  that  I  live  I  love  ,•   because  I  love 
I  live  :   ffrbate'cr  if  fountain  to  the  one 
Ii  fountain  to  the  other. 

—  TENNYSON. 


CLOISTER,    MUSEUM     OF    SAN     MARCO,    FLORENCE. 


MANY  days  of  great  distress  followed.  Every- 
thing else  was  forgotten  in  the  tense  waiting. 
There  were  moments  of  half  consciousness  when 
Malcom's  only  words  were  "  All  right,  mother." 
It  seemed  as  if  even  in  that  second  of  plunging  to 
save  the  child  he  yet  thought  of  his  mother,  and 
realized  how  she  would  feel  his  danger.  But  hap- 
pily, as  time  wore  on,  the  jarred  brain  recovered 
from  the  severe  shock  it  had  received,  and  gradu- 
ally smiles  took  the  place  of  anxious,  questioning 
looks,  and  merry  voices  were  again  heard,  and 
the  busy  household  life  was  resumed. 

Although  Malcom  could  not  accompany  them, 
the  proposed  visit  to  the  old  monastery,  San  Marco, 
for  study  of  Fra  Angelico's  paintings  was  made 
by  the  others. 

As  they  wandered  through  the  long  corridors, 
109 


HO  BARBARAS    HERITAGE. 

chapel,  refectory,  and  the  many  little  cells,  now 
vacant,  from  the  walls  of  which  look  forth  soft, 
fair  faces  and  still  fresh,  sweet  colors  laid  there 
almost  five  hundred  years  ago  by  the  hand  of  the 
painter-monk,  they  talked  of  his  devotion,  of  his 
unselfish  life  and  work;  of  his  rejection  of  pay- 
ment for  his  painting,  doing  it  unto  God  and  not 
unto  men.  They  talked  of  his  beginning  all  his 
work  with  prayer  for  inspiration,  and  how,  in  full 
faith  that  his  prayer  had  been  answered,  he  abso- 
lutely refused  to  alter  a  touch  his  brush  had  made; 
and  of  the  old  tradition  that  he  never  painted 
Christ  or  the  Virgin  Mary  save  on  his  knees,  nor  a 
crucifixion  save  through  blinding  tears;  and  their 
voices  grew  very  quiet,  and  they  looked  upon  each 
fresco  almost  with  reverence. 

"  Fra  Angelico  stood  apart  from  the  growth  of 
art  that  was  taking  place  about  him,"  said  Mr. 
Sumner.  "  He  neither  affected  it  nor  was  affected 
by  it.  We  should  call  him  to-day  an  'ecstatic 
painter '  —  one  who  paints  visions ;  the  Italians  then 
called  him  '  II  Beato,'  the  blessed.  There  are 
many  other  works  by  him,  —  although  a  great  part, 
between  forty  and  fifty,  are  here.  You  remember 
the  Madonna  and  CJiild  you  saw  in  the  Uffizi 
Gallery  the  other  day,  on  whose  wide  gold 
frame  are  painted  those  angels  with  musical 
instruments  that  are  reproduced  so  widely  and 


A    STARTLING    DISCLOSURE.  I  1 1 

sold  everywhere.  You  recognized  them  at  once, 
I  saw.  Then,  a  few  pictures  have  been  carried 
away  and  are  in  foreign  art  galleries,  as  I  told 
you  the  other  day.  During  the  last  years  of 
his  life  the  Pope  sent  for  him  to  come  to  Rome, 
and  there  he  painted  frescoes  on  the  walls  of 
some  rooms  in  the  Vatican  Palace.  From  that 
city  he  went  to  Orvieto,  a  little  old  city  perched 
on  the  top  of  a  hill  on  the  way  from  Florence 
to  Rome,  in  whose  cathedral  he  painted  a  noble 
Christ,  with  prophets,  saints,  and  angels.  He  died 
in  Rome." 

"And  was  he  not  buried  here?"  asked  Barbara; 
"  here  in  this  lovely  inner  court,  where  are  the 
graves  of  so  many  monks  ? " 

"  No.  He  was  buried  in  Santa  Maria  Sopra 
Minerva,  a  church  close  by  the  Pantheon  in  Rome, 
and  the  Pope  himself  wrote  his  epitaph.  But  it  is 
indeed  a  great  pity  that  he  could  not  lie  here,  in 
the  very  midst  of  so  many  of  his  works,  and  where 
he  lived  so  long." 

"  Did  Fra  Angelico  live  before  or  after  the 
prophet  Savonarola,  uncle  ? "  asked  Margery. 
"We  came  here  a  little  time  ago  with  mother 
to  visit  the  latter's  cell,  and  the  church,  in  con- 
nection with  our  reading  of  '  Romola.' " 

"  He  lived  before  Savonarola,  about  a  hundred 
years.  So  that  when  Savonarola  used  to  walk 


112  BARBARAS    HERITAGE. 

about  through  these  rooms  and  corridors,  he  saw 
the  same  pictures  we  are  now  looking  at." 

"  I  say,  uncle,  don't  you  think  I  am  having  the 
best  part  of  this,  after  all? "  brightly  asked  Malcom, 
the  following  day,  as  Mr.  Sumner  entered  the  wide 
sunny  room  where  he  was  lying  on  the  sofa, 
propped  up  by  cushions,  while  Barbara,  Bettina, 
and  Margery  were  clustered  about  him  with  their 
hands  full  of  photographs  of  Fra  Angelico's  paint- 
ings, and  all  trying  to  talk  at  once.  "  The  girls 
have  told  me  everything;  and  I  am  almost  sure 
I  shall  never  mistake  a  Fra  Angelico  picture.  I 
know  just  what  expression  he  put  into  his  faces, 
just  how  quiet  and  as-if-they-never-could-be-used  his 
hands  are,  and  how  straight  the  folds  of  his  draper- 
ies hang,  even  though  the  people  who  wear  them 
are  dancing.  I  know  what  funny  little  clouds,  like 
bundles  of  cigars,  his  Madonnas  sit  upon  up  in  the 
heavens. 

"  I  am  not  quite  sure,  uncle  dear,  but  I  like  your 
instructions  best  when  second-hand,"  he  laughingly 
added.  "  Betty  has  made  me  fairly  love  the  old 
fellow  by  her  stories  of  his  unearthly  goodness. 
Was  it  not  fine  to  refuse  money  for  his  work,  and 
to  decline  to  be  made  archbishop  when  the  Pope 
asked  him ;  and  to  recommend  a  brother  monk  for 
the  office  ?  I  think  he  ought  to  be  called  Saint 
Angelico." 


GROUP   OF  ANGELS.     FROM    CORONATION   OF  THE  VIRGIN. 


A   STARTLING   DISCLOSURE.  113 

"  Some  people  have  called  him  the  '  St.  John  of 
Art,' "  Mr.  Sumner  replied,  with  a  bright  smile  at 
Malcom's  enthusiasm.  "  I  am  not  sure  but  yours 
is  the  better  name,  however." 

About  this  time  people  who  frequented  the 
Cascine  Gardens  and  other  popular  drives  in  and 
about  Florence  began  to  notice  with  interest  an 
elegant  equipage  containing  a  tall,  slender,  pale 
young  man,  two  beautiful,  brown-eyed  girls,  and 
oftentimes  either  a  gray-haired  woman  in  black  or 
a  sunny-haired  young  girl.  It  had  been  purchased 
by  Howard,  and  daily  he  wished  Barbara  and 
Bettina  to  drive  with  him.  Indeed,  it  now  seemed 
as  if  the  young  man's  thoughts  were  beginning 
to  centre  wholly  in  this  household ;  and  suddenly 
warned  by  a  few  words  spoken  by  Malcom,  Mrs. 
Douglas  became  painfully  conscious  that  a  more 
than  mere  friendly  interest  might  prompt  such  con- 
stant and  lavish  attentions.  With  newly  opened 
eyes,  she  saw  that  while  Howard  generously 
gave  to  them  all  of  such  things  as  he  could 
in  return  for  their  hospitality,  yet  there  was  a 
something  different  in  his  manner  toward  Barbara 
and  Bettina.  Their  room  was  always  bright  and 
fragrant  with  the  most  costly  flowers,  and  not  a 
wish  did  they  express  but  Howard  was  eager  to 
gratify  it. 

She  was  troubled ;  and  since  the  air  of  Florence 


114  BARBARAS    HERITAGE. 

was  beginning  to  take  on  the  chill  of  winter  —  to 
become  too  cold  for  such  an  invalid  as  Howard 
—  she  ventured  one  day,  when  they  happened  to 
be  alone  together,  to  ask  him  if  he  would  soon 
go  farther  south  for  the  winter. 

"  Malcom  told  me  you  had  stopped  for  only 
a  time  here  on  your  way  to  the  south  of  Italy," 
she  added. 

The  color  rushed  in  a  torrent  over  Howard's 
pale  face,  and  he  did  not  speak  for  a  minute ; 
then,  turning  abruptly  to  her,  said  :  — 

"  I  cannot  go  away  from  Florence,  Mrs.  Douglas. 
Do  you  not  see,  do  you  not  know,  how  I  have  loved 
Barbara  ever  since  I  first  saw  her  ?  You  must 
have  seen  it,  for  I  have  not  been  able  sometimes  to 
conceal  my  feelings.  They  have  taken  complete 
possession  of  me.  I  think  only  of  her  day  and 
night.  I  have  often  thought  I  ought  to  tell  you  of 
it.  Now,  I  am  glad  I  have.  Do  you  not  think 
she  will  sometime  love  n- :  ?  She  must.  I  could 
not  live  without  it."  And  his  voice,  which  had 
trembled  with  excitement,  suddenly  faltered  and 
broke. 

Poor  Mrs.  Douglas  strove  for  words. 

"  You  must  not  let  her  know  this,"  she  finally 
said.  "  She  is  only  a  little  girl  whom  her  father 
and  mother  have  entrusted  to  me.  What  would 
they  say  if  they  knew  how  blind  I  have  been! 


A   STARTLING    DISCLOSURE.  115 

Why,  you  have  known  her  but  a  few  weeks ! 
You  must  be  mistaken.  It  is  a  fancy.  It  will 
pass  away.  Conquer  yourself.  Go  away.  Oh, 
do  go  away,  Howard,  for  a  time  at  least ! " 

"  I  cannot,  I  will  not.  Mrs.  Douglas,  I  have 
never  longed  for  a  thing  in  my  life  but  it  has 
come  to  me.  I  long  for  Barbara's  love  more  than 
I  ever  wished  for  any  other  thing  in  the  world. 
.She  must  give  it  to  me.  Oh,  were  I  only  well 
and  strong,  I  know  I  could  compel  it." 

"  Listen  to  me,  Howard.  I  know  that  Barbara 
has  never  had  one  thought  of  this.  Her  mind  is 
completely  occupied  with  her  study,  the  pleasures 
and  the  novelties  that  each  day  is  bringing  her. 
She  does  not  conceal  anything.  She  has  no 
reason  to  do  so.  She  and  Bettina  are  no  silly 
girls  who  think  of  a  lover  in  every  young  man 
they  meet.  They  are  as  sweet  and  fresh  and 
free  from  all  sentimentalities  as  when  they  were 
children.  Barbara  would  be  frightened  could  she 
hear  you  talk,  —  should  she  for  a  moment  suspect 
how  you  feel.  You  must  conceal  it ;  for  your  own 
sake,  you  must." 

"  I  will  not  show  what  I  feel  any  more  than  I 
already  have.  I  will  not  speak  to  Barbara  yet 
of  my  love.  Only  let  me  stay  here,  where  I  can 
see  her  every  day.  Do  not  send  me  away.  Mrs. 
Douglas,  you  do  not  know  how  lonely  my  life  has 


n6  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

been  —  without  brother  or  sister  —  without  father 
or  mother.  It  has  been  like  a  bit  of  Paradise  to 
go  in  and  out  of  your  household ;  and  to  think  — 
to  hope  that  perhaps  Barbara  would  sometime  love 
me  and  be  with  me  always.  My  love  has  become 
a  passion,  stronger  than  life  itself.  Look  at  me ! 
Do  you  not  believe  my  words,  Mrs.  Douglas  ? " 

As  Mrs.  Douglas  lifted  her  eyes  and  looked  full 
into  the  delicate,  almost  transparent  face  so  swept 
by  emotion,  and  met  the  deathless  fire  of  Howard's 
brilliant  eyes,  she  felt  as  never  before  the  frailty 
of  his  physical  life,  and  wondered  at  the  mighty 
force  of  his  passionate  will.  The  conviction  came 
that  she  was  grappling  with  no  slight  feeling,  but 
with  that  which  really  might  mean  life  or  death  to 
him. 

An  unfathomable  sympathy  filled  her  heart. 

"  I  can  talk  no  more,"  she  said,  gently  taking  in 
her  own  the  young  man's  hand.  "  I  will  accept 
your  promise.  Come  and  go  as  you  have,  dear 
Howard.  But  always  remember  that  very  much 
depends  on  your  keeping  from  Barbara  all  knowl- 
edge of  your  love." 

As  soon  as  it  was  possible,  Mrs.  Douglas,  as 
was  her  wont  when  in  any  anxiety,  sought  a  con- 
ference with  her  brother.  After  telling  him  all, 
here  was  complete  silence  for  a  moment.  Then 
4r.  Sumner  said  :  — 


A   STARTLING   DISCLOSURE.  117 

"  And  Barbara,  —  how  do  you  think  Barbara 
feels  ?  For  she  is  not  a  child  any  longer.  How 
old  were  you,  my  sister,  when  you  were  married  ? 
Only  nineteen  —  and  you  told  me  yesterday  that  we 
must  celebrate  Barbara's  and  Bettina's  eighteenth 
birthday  before  very  long,  and  Barbara  is  older 
than  her  years  —  more  womanly  than  most  girls 
of  her  age." 

"  She  has  never  had  a  thought  of  this,  I  am 
confident.  Of  course,  she  may  have  known,  have 
felt,  Howard's  admiration  of  her;  but  I  doubt  if 
the  child  has  ever  in  her  life  had  the  slightest 
idea  of  the  possible  existence  of  any  such  feeling 
as  he  is  cherishing.  It  is  not  ordinary,  Robert, 
it  is  overwhelming ;  you  know  we  have  seen  his 
self-will  shown  in  many  ways.  The  force  of  his 
emotion  and  will  now  is  simply  tremendous.  Few 
girls  could  withstand  it  if  fully  exposed  to  its 
influence.  There  is  all  the  more  danger  because 
the  element  of  pity  must  enter  in,  because  he  is  so 
evidently  frail  and  lonely.  I  feel  that  I  have  been 
greatly  in  fault.  I  ought  to  have  foreseen  what 
might  happen  from  admitting  so  freely  into  our 
home  a  young  man  of  Howard's  age  and  circum- 
stances. I  have  never  thought  of  Barbara  and 
Betty  otherwise  than  of  my  own  Margery,  and 
I  know  nothing  in  the  world  has  ever  been  farther 
from  good  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Burnett's  minds  than  the 


n8  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

possible  involvement  of  one  of  their  girls  in  a  love- 
affair. 

"  And  now  I  must  write  them  something  of 
this,"  she  added,  with  a  sigh.  "It  would  not  be 
right  to  keep  secret  even  the  beginnings  of  what 
might  prove  to  be  of  infinite  importance.  Of 
course  Howard's  family,  character,  position,  are 
above  question  ;  but  his  health,  his  exacting 
nature  ;  his  lack  of  so  many  qualities  Dr.  Burnett 
considers  essential ;  the  undesirability  of  such  an 
entanglement !  Oh  !  it  would  be  only  the  begin- 
ning of  sorrows  should  Barbara  grow  to  care  for 
him." 

Poor  Mrs.  Douglas's  face  showed  the  sudden 
weight  of  care  that  had  been  launched  upon  her, 
as  she  anxiously  asked  :  — 

"  What  do  you  advise,  Robert  ?  " 

"  Nothing ;  only  to  go  on  just  as  we  have  been 
doing.  Fill  the  days  as  full  as  we  can,  and  trust 
that  all  will  be  right.  It  is  best  never  to  try  to 
manage  affairs,  I  believe." 

And  Barbara  —  how  did  Barbara  feel  ?  She 
could  never  have  analyzed  and  put  into  definite 
thought  the  inner  life  she  was  leading  during 
these  days.  Indeed,  it  is  doubtful  whether  she 
had  the  slightest  conception  of  the  change  that 
was  gradually  working  within  her.  But  rapidly 
she  was  putting  away  childish  things,  and  "  woman's 


A    STARTLING    DISCLOSURE.  I  19 

lot"  was  coming  fast  upon  her.  Mrs.  Douglas 
would  have  been  astounded,  indeed,  could  she, 
with  her  eyes  of  experience  and  wisdom,  have 
looked  into  the  heart  of  Barbara,  whom  she  still 
called  "child."  That  which  the  young  girl  could 
not  understand  would  have  been  a  revelation  to 
her  who  had  been  a  loving  wife.  With  what  an 
overwhelming  pity  would  she  have  hastened  to 
restore  her  to  her  parents  before  this  hopeless 
love  should  grow  any  stronger,  and  she  become 
aware  of  its  existence  ! 

Dr.  Burnett's  admiration  for  Robert  Sumner 
was  unbounded.  He  had  known  him  from  boy- 
hood, and  had  always  been  his  confidant,  so  far 
as  an  older  man  can  be  with  a  younger.  Many 
times  he  had  talked  to  his  children  about  him  — 
about  his  earnestness  and  sincerity  of  purpose 
—  his  high  aims,  and  his  willingness  to  spare  no 
pains  to  realize  them. 

Barbara,  who,  perhaps,  had  been  more  than  any 
other  of  the  children  her  father's  comrade,  had 
listened  to  these  tales  and  praises  until  Robert 
Sumner  had  become  her  ideal  of  all  that  was 
noble.  No  one  had  dreamed  of  such  a  thing,  but 
so  it  was ;  and  through  all  the  excitement  of 
preparation  and  through  the  journey  to  Italy,  one 
of  her  chief  anticipations  had  been  to  see  this 
young  man  of  whom  her  father  had  talked  so 


I2O  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

much,  and,  herself,  to  learn  to  know  him.  The 
story  of  his  marriage  disappointment,  which  had 
led  to  his  life  abroad,  and  a  notable  adventure 
in  Egypt,  in  which  he  had  saved  a  woman's  life, 
had  added  just  that  romance  to  his  reputation  as 
an  artist  and  a  writer  on  art  that  had  seized  hold 
of  the  young  girl's  imagination. 

Now,  as  she  was  daily  with  him  in  the  home, 
saw  his  affectionate  care  for  his  sister,  Malcom, 
and  Margery,  and  felt  his  good  comradeship 
with  them  all,  while  in  every  way  he  was  teaching 
them  and  inspiring  them  to  do  better  things  than 
they  had  yet  accomplished,  a  passionate  desire 
had  risen  to  make  herself  worthy  of  his  approba- 
tion. She  wished  him  to  think  of  her  as  more 
than  a  mere  girl  —  the  companion  of  none  but 
the  very  young.  She  wished  to  be  his  companion, 
and  all  that  was  ardent  and  enthusiastic  in  her 
nature  was  beginning  to  rush,  like  a  torrent  that 
suddenly  finds  an  outlet,  into  the  channels  indi- 
cated by  him. 

She  did  not  realize  this.  But  the  absorbing 
study  she  was  giving  to  the  old  pictures,  the  in- 
tensity of  which  was  surprising  to  Bettina,  was  an 
indication  of  it.  Her  quick  endeavor  to  follow 
any  line  of  thought  suggested  by  Mr.  Sumner  — 
and  her  restlessness  when  she  saw  the  long  con- 
versations he  and  Miss  Sherman  would  so  often 


A   STARTLING   DISCLOSURE.  121 

hold,  were  others.  It  seemed  to  her  lately  as  if 
Miss  Sherman  were  always  claiming  his  time  and 
attention  —  even  their  visit  to  Santa  Maria  del 
Carmine  to  study  the  frescoes  by  Masaccio,  who 
was  the  next  artist  they  were  to  learn  about, 
had  been  postponed  because  she  wished  Mrs. 
Douglas  and  Mr.  Sumner  to  go  somewhere  with 
her.  Barbara  did  not  like  it  very  well. 

But  to  Howard  she  gave  little  thought  when 
she  was  away  from  him.  He  was  kind,  his 
flowers  were  sweet,  but  they  were  all  over  the 
house,  —  given  to  others  as  well  as  to  herself.  It 
was  very  good  ot  him  to  take  herself  and  Betty 
in  his  fine  new  carriage  so  often ;  but,  perhaps, 
—  if  he  did  not  so  continually  ask  them,  —  per- 
haps,—  they  would  oftener  drive  with  Mr.  Sum- 
ner and  Malcom ;  and  she  knew  Betty  would 
like  that  better,  as  well  as  she  herself. 

She  was  often  annoyed  because  he  evidently 
"  admired  "  her  so  much,  as  Betty  called  it,  and  did 
wish  he  would  not  look  at  her  as  he  sometimes 
did ;  and  she  felt  very  sensitively  the  signs  of 
irritation  that  were  so  apparent  in  him  when  any- 
thing prevented  them  from  being  with  him  as  he 
wished.  But  she  was  very  sorry  for  his  loneli- 
ness ;  for  his  exile  from  home  on  account  of  ill- 
health  ;  for  the  weakness  that  he  often  felt  and 
for  which  no  pleasures  purchased  by  money  could 


122  BARBARAS    HERITAGE. 

compensate.  She  was  grateful  for  his  kindness, 
and  would  not  wound  him  for  the  world ;  so  she 
frankly  and  graciously  accepted  all  he  gave,  and, 
in  return,  tried  to  bring  all  the  happiness  she 
could  into  his  days. 


Chapter  VIII. 
Howard's  Questionings. 


Wben  the  fight  begins  within  himself, 
A  man's  worth  something.      God  stoops  o'er  bis  bead, 
Satan  looks  up  beneath  bis  feet  —  both  tug  — 
He's  left,  himself,  i '  the  middle  :  the  soul  wakes 
And  grows. 


—  BROWNING. 


PONTE    ALLA    CARRAJA,    FLORENCE. 


AT  last  the  morning  came  when  the  postponed 
visit  to  Santa  Maria  del  Carmine,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Arno,  was  to  be  made.  Miss 
Sherman  had  so  evidently  desired  to  join  in  the 
study  of  the  old  painters  that  Mrs.  Douglas  sug- 
gested to  her  brother  that  she  be  invited  to  do  so, 
but  he  had  thought  it  not  best. 

"The  others  would  not  be  so  free  to  talk,"  he 
said.  "  I  do  not  wish  any  constraint.  Now  we 
are  only  a  family  party,  —  with  the  exception  of 
Howard,  and  I  confess  that  I  sometimes  wish  he 
did  not  join  us  in  this."  Malcom  was  again  with 
them,  for  the  first  time  since  they  were  at  Fiesole, 
and  this  was  enough  to  make  the  occasion  a  par- 
ticularly joyous  one. 

The  romantic  mystery  of  Masaccio's  short  life 
and  sudden,  secret  death,  and  the  wonderful  ad- 
125 


126  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

vance  that  he  effected  in  the  evolution  of  Italian 
painting  of  the  fifteenth  century,  had  greatly 
interested  them  as  they  had  read  at  home  about 
him,  and  all  were  eager  to  see  the  frescoes. 

"  They  are  somewhat  worn  and  dark,"  Mr.  Sum- 
ner  said,  "  and  at  first  you  will  probably  feel  dis- 
appointed. What  you  must  particularly  look  for 
here  is  that  which  you  have  hitherto  found  nowhere 
else,  —  the  expression  of  individuality  in  figures 
and  faces.  Giotto,  you  remember,  sought  to  tell 
some  story ;  to  illustrate  some  Bible  incident  so 
that  it  should  seem  important  and  claim  attention. 
Masaccio  went  to  work  in  a  wholly  different  way. 
While  Giotto  would  say  to  himself:  'Now  I  am 
going  to  paint  a  certain  Bible  story ;  what  people 
shall  I  introduce  so  that  this  story  shall  best  seem 
to  be  a  real  occurrence  ? '  Masaccio  would  think  : 
'  I  wish  to  make  a  striking  picture  of  Peter  and 
John,  or  any  other  sacred  characters.  What  story 
or  incident  shall  I  choose  for  representation  that 
will  best  show  the  individual  characteristics  of 
these  men  ? ' 

"Possessing  this  great  love  for  people,  he  stud- 
ied the  drawing  of  the  human  figure  as  had  never 
been  done  before  in  the  history  of  Christian  art. 
At  this  time,  more  than  a  hundred  years  after 
Giotto,  artists  were  beginning  to  master  the  science 
of  perspective  drawing,  and  in  Masaccio's  pictures 


HOWARDS    QUESTIONINGS.  \2"] 

we  see  men  standing  firmly  on  their  feet,  and  put 
upon  different  planes  in  the  same  picture ;  their 
figures  well  poised,  and  true  to  anatomy.  In  one 
of  them  is  his  celebrated  naked,  shivering  youth, 
who  is  awaiting  baptism,  —  the  study  of  which 
wrought  a  revolution  in  painting." 

A  little  afterward  they  were  standing  in  the  dim 
Brancacci  Chapel  of  Santa  Maria  del  Carmine, 
whose  walls  are  covered  with  frescoes  of  scenes  in 
the  lives  of  Christ  and  His  apostles.  They  had 
learned  that  there  was  an  artist  called  Masolino, 
who,  perhaps,  had  begun  these  frescoes,  and  had 
been  Masaccio's  teacher ;  and  that  a  young  man 
called  Filippino  Lippi  had  finished  them  some 
years  after  they  had  been  left  incomplete  by 
Masaccio's  early  death. 

All  were  greatly  impressed  by  the  fact  that  so 
little  can  be  known  of  Masaccio,  who  wrought  here 
so  well ;  that  even  when,  or  how,  or  where  he  died 
is  a  mystery ;  and  yet  his  name  is  one  of  the  very 
greatest  in  early  Italian  art. 

They  talked  of  how  the  greatest  masters  of  the 
High  Renaissance  —  Michael  Angelo,  Leonardo  da 
Vinci,  and  Raphael  —  used  to  come  here  to  study, 
and  thus  this  little  chapel  became  a  great  art 
school ;  and  how,  at  the  present  time,  it  is  esteemed 
by  many  one  of  the  four  most  important  art-build- 
ings in  the  world ;  —  the  others  being,  Arena 


128  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Chapel,  Padua,  where  are  Giotto's  frescoes;  Sis- 
tine  Chapel,  Rome,  where  are  Michael  Angelo's 
greatest  paintings ;  and  Scuola  di  San  Rocco, 
Venice,  which  is  rilled  with  Tintoretto's  work. 

He  then  called  their  attention  to  the  composi- 
tion of  Masaccio's  frescoes ;  asking  them  especially 
to  notice  that,  while  only  a  few  people  are  taking- 
part  in  the  principal  scene,  many  others  are  stand- 
ing about  interested  in  looking  on ;  all,  men  with 
strongly  marked  characteristics,  —  individual,  and 
worthy  of  attention. 

"  May  I  repeat  a  verse  or  two  of  poetry  right 
here  where  we  stand,  uncle  ? "  asked  Margery. 
"  It  keeps  saying  itself  in  my  mind.  I  think  you 
all  know  it  and  who  wrote  it,  but  that  is  all  the 
better." 

And  in  her  own  sweet  way  she  recited  James 
Russell  Lowell's  beautiful  tribute  to  Masaccio :  — 

"  He  came  to  Florence  long  ago 
And  painted  here  these  walls,  that  shone 
For  Raphael  and  for  Angelo, 
With  secrets  deeper  than  his  own, 
Then  shrank  into  the  dark  again, 
And  died,  we  know  not  how  or  when. 

"  The  darkness  deepened,  and  I  turned 
Half  sadly  from  the  fresco  grand  ; 
'And  is  this,1  mused  I,  'all  ye  earned, 
High-vaulted  brain  and  cunning  hand, 
That  ye  to  other  men  could  teach 
The  skill  yourselves  could  never  reach  ? ' 


HOWARD'S  QUESTIONINGS.  129 

***»**• 

"  Henceforth,  when  rings  the  health  to  those 
Who  live  in  story  and  in  song, 
O,  nameless  dead,  that  now  repose 
Safe  in  oblivion's  chambers  strong, 
One  cup  of  recognition  true 
Shall  silently  be  drained  to  you !" 

"  But  Masaccio  does  not  need  any  other  monu- 
ment than  this  chapel.  He  is  not  very  badly  off,  I 
am  sure,  while  this  stands,  and  people  come  from 
all  over  the  world  to  visit  it,"  exclaimed  Malcom, 
as  they  left  the  Brancacci  Chapel,  and  walked 
slowly  down  the  nave  of  the  church. 

"  Is  this  all  he  painted  ?  "  asked  Barbara. 

"  There  is  one  other  fresco  in  the  cloister  of  this 
same  church,  but  it  is  sadly  injured  —  indeed  half 
obliterated,"  answered  Mr.  Sumner.  "That  is  all. 
But  his  influence  cannot  be  estimated.  What  he, 
then  a  poor,  unknown  young  man,  working  his  very 
best  upon  these  walls,  accomplished  for  the  great 
world  of  painting  can  never  be  measured.  He 
surely  wrought  '  better  than  he  knew.'  This  was 
because  he,  for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  mod- 
ern painting,  portrayed  real  life.  All  the  conven- 
tionalities that  had  hitherto  clung,  in  a  greater  or 
less  degree,  to  painting,  were  dropped  by  him  ;  and 
thus  the  way  was  opened  for  the  perfect  represen- 
tations of  the  High  Renaissance  which  so  soon  fol- 


I3O  BARBARAS    HERITAGE. 

lowed.  We  will  next  give  some  time  to  the  study 
of  the  works  of  Ghirlandajo  and  Botticelli,  who, 
with  Filippino  Lippi,  who  finished  these  frescoes 
which  we  have  just  been  looking  at,  make  a  famous 
trio  of  Early  Renaissance  painters." 

After  they  had  crossed  Ponte  alia  Carraja,  Mar- 
gery said  she  wished  to  do  some  shopping  on  Via 
dei  Fossi,  which  was  close  at  hand — that  street 
whose  shop  windows  are  ever  filled  with  most  fas- 
cinating groups  of  sculptured  marbles  and  bronzes, 
and  all  kinds  of  artistic  bric-a-brac  —  and  begged 
her  uncle  to  accompany  her. 

"  I  wish  no  one  else  to  come,"  she  said,  with  her 
own  little,  emphatic  nod. 

"Oh,  ho !  secrets !  "  exclaimed  Malcom  ;  "  so  we 
must  turn  aside !  " 

"  Do  go  to  drive  with  me,"  begged  Howard. 
"  Here  we  are  close  to  my  hotel,  and  I  can  have 
the  team  ready  right  off." 

So  they  walked  a  few  steps  along  the  Lung'  Arno 
to  the  pleasant,  sunny  Hotel  de  la  Grande  Bretagne, 
which  Howard  had  chosen  for  his  Florentine  home, 
and  soon  recrossed  the  Arno,  and  swept  out  through 
Porta  Romana  into  the  open  country,  behind  How- 
ard's beautiful  gray  horses. 

The  crisp,  cool  air  brought  roses  into  Barbara's 
and  Bettina's  cheeks,  and  ruffled  their  pretty  brown 
hair.  Malcom  was  in  high  spirits  after  his  long 


HOWARDS    QUESTIONINGS.  13! 

confinement  to  the  house,  and  Howard  tried  to 
throw  off  a  gloomy,  discouraged  feeling  that  had 
hung  over  him  all  the  morning.  Seated  opposite 
Barbara,  and  continually  meeting  her  frank,  stead- 
fast eyes,  he  seemed  to  realize  as  he  had  never 
before  done  the  obvious  truth  of  Mrs.  Douglas's 
words,  when  she  had  said  that  Barbara  was  per- 
fectly unconscious  of  his  love  for  her ;  and  all  the 
manhood  within  him  strove  to  assert  itself  to  resist 
an  untimely  discovery  of  his  feeling,  for  fear  of  the 
mischief  it  might  cause. 

Howard  had  been  doing  a  great  deal  of  new 
thinking  during  the  past  weeks.  He  suddenly 
found  himself  surrounded  by  an  atmosphere  wholly 
different  from  that  in  which  he  had  before  lived. 

Sprung  from  an  aristocratic  and  thoroughly  ego- 
istic ancestry  on  his  father's  side,  and  a  morbidly 
sensitive  one  on  his  mother's ;  brought  up  by  his 
paternal  grandmother,  whose  every  thought  had 
been  centred  upon  him  as  the  only  living  descend- 
ant of  her  family ;  surrounded  by  servants  who 
were  the  slaves  of  his  grandmother's  and  his  own 
whims ;  not  even  his  experience  in  the  Boston 
Latin  School,  chosen  because  his  father,  grand- 
father, and  great-grandfather  had  been  educated 
there,  had  served  to  widen  much  the  horizon  of  his 
daily  living,  or  to  make  him  anything  like  a  typical 
American  youth, 


132  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

Now,  during  the  last  two  or  three  months  he  had 
been  put  into  wholly  changed  conditions.  An  ha- 
bitual visitor  to  this  family  into  whose  life  he  had 
accidentally  entered,  he  had  been  a  daily  witness 
of  Mrs.  Douglas's  self-forgetting  love,  which  was 
by  no  means  content  with  ministering  to  the  hap- 
piness of  her  own  loved  home  ones,  but  continually 
reached  out  to  an  ever  widening  circle,  blessing 
whomever  it  touched.  He  could  not  be  uncon- 
scious that  every  act  of  Robert  Sumner's  busy  life 
was  directed  by  the  desire  to  give  of  himself  to 
help  others ;  that  a  high  ideal  of  beneficence,  not 
gain,  was  always  before  him,  and  was  that  by 
which  he  measured  himself.  The  wealth,  the  posi- 
tion of  both,  served  only  to  make  their  lives  more 
generous. 

And  he  saw  that  the  younger  people  of  the 
household  had  caught  the  same  spirit.  Malcom, 
Margery,  Barbara,  and  Bettina  forgot  themselves 
in  each  other,  and  were  most  generous  in  all 
their  judgments.  They  esteemed  people  accord- 
ing to  that  which  they  were  in  themselves,  not 
according  to  what  they  had,  and  shrank  from 
nothing  save  meanness  and  selfishness. 

As  we  have  seen,  he  had  been  attracted  in 
a  wonderful  way  to  Barbara  ever  since  he  had 
first  met  her.  Her  beauty,  her  unconscious  pride 
of  bearing,  mingled  with  her  sweet,  unaffected 


HOWARDS    QUESTIONINGS.  133 

enthusiasms,  were  a  swift  revelation  to  one  who 
had  never  in  his  life  before  given  a  second 
thought  to  any  girl ;  and  a  fierce  longing  to 
win  her  love  had  taken  possession  of  his  whole 
being,  as  he  had  confessed  to  Mrs.  Douglas. 

But  to-day  there  was  a  chill  upon  him.  He 
had  before  been  confident  pf  the  future.  It 
must  not,  should  not  disappoint  him,  he  had 
said  to  himself  again  and  again.  Somehow  he 
was  not  now  so  sure  of  himself  and  it.  There 
seemed  a  mystery  before  him.  The  way  that 
had  always  before  seemed  to  open  to  his  will 
refused  to  disclose  itself.  How  could  he  win 
the  affection  of  this  noble  girl,  whose  life  already 
seemed  so  full  that  she  felt  no  lack,  who  was 
so  warm  and  generous  in  her  feelings  to  all,  so 
thoroughly  unselfish,  so  wholesome,  so  lovable  ? 
How  he  did  long  to  make  all  her  wishes  centre 
on  him,  even  as  his  did  upon  her! 

But  Barbara's  ideals  were  high.  She  would 
demand  much  of  him  whom  she  could  love. 
Only  the  other  day  he  had  heard  her  say  in 
a  voice  deep  with  feeling  that  money  and  posi- 
tion were  nothing  in  comparison  with  a  life  that 
was  ever  giving  itself  to  enrich  others.  Whom 
did  she  mean  ?  he  wondered.  It  seemed  as  if 
she  knew  some  one  who  was  even  then  in  her 
mind,  and  a  fierce  jealousy  sprang  up  with  the 


134  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

thought.  She  surely  could  not  have  meant  him, 
for  he  had  never  lived  for  any  other  than  him- 
self, nor  did  he  wish  to  think  of  anything  but 
himself.  He  wanted  to  get  well  and  to  have 
Barbara  love  him.  Then  he  would  take  her 
away  from  everybody  else  and  lavish  everything 
upon  her,  and  how  happy  would  he  be !  Could 
he  only  look  into  the  future,  he  thought,  and 
see  that  this  was  to  come,  he  would  ask  nothing 
else. 

Poor  Howard !  Could  the  future  have  opened 
before  his  wish  never  so  little,  how  soon  would 
his  restless,  raging  emotions  have  become  hushed 
into  a  great  silence ! 

A  few  evenings  afterward,  as  they  were  all 
sitting  together  in  the  library,  and  Howard  with 
them,  Mr.  Sumner,  knov/ing  that  the  young  peo- 
ple had  been  reading  and  talking  of  Ghirlandajo 
and  Botticelli,  said  that  perhaps  there  would  be 
no  better  time  for  talking  of  these  artists  than 
the  present. 

"With  Masaccio,"  he  continued,  "we  have  be- 
gun a  new  period  of  Italian  painting,  —  the 
period  of  the  Early  Renaissance.  All  the  former 
great  artists,  —  Cimabue,  Giotto,  and  Fra  Angel- 
ico,  whom  we  have  particularly  studied,  —  and  the 
lesser  ones,  about  whom  you  have  read,  —  Or- 


HOWARD'S  QUESTIONINGS.  135 

cagna,  Taddeo  Gaddi,  and  Uccello,  the  bird-lover 
(who  gave  himself  so  untiringly  to  the  study  of 
linear  perspective),  —  belong  to  the  Gothic  pe- 
riod, literally  the  rude  period ;  in  which,  although 
a  steady  advance  was  made,  yet  the  works  are 
all  more  or  less  very  imperfect  art-productions. 
All  these  are  wholly  in  the  service  of  the  Church, 
and  are  painted  in  fresco  on  plaster  or  in  tem- 
pera on  wood.  In  the  Early  Renaissance,  how- 
ever, a  new  impulse  was  seen.  Artists  were 
much  better  equipped  for  their  work,  nature- 
study  progressed  wonderfully,  anatomy  was 
studied,  perspective  was  mastered,  the  sphere 
of  art  widened  to  take  in  history,  portraits,  and 
mythology ;  and  in  the  latter  part  of  this  period, 
as  we  shall  see,  oil-painting  was  introduced." 

"  Can  you  give  us  any  dates  of  these  periods  to 
remember,  uncle  ? "  asked  Malcom. 

"  Roughly  speaking,  the  Gothic  period  covers 
the  years  from  about  1250  to  1400;  the  Early 
Renaissance,  from  about  1400  to  1500.  Masac- 
cio,  as  we  have  seen,  was  the  first  great  painter 
of  the  Early  Renaissance,  and  he  lived  from  1401 
to  1428.  But  these  dates  are  not  arbitrary.  Fra 
Angelico  lived  until  1455,  and  yet  his  pictures  be- 
long wholly  to  the  Gothic  period ;  so  also  do  those 
of  other  Gothic  painters  whose  lives  overlap  the 
Early  Renaissance  in  point  of  time.  It  is  the 


136  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

spirit  of  the  art  that  definitely  determines  its 
place,  although  the  general  dates  help  one  to 
remember. 

"  We  will  not  talk  long  of  Ghirlandajo,  —  Do- 
menico  Ghirlandajo  (for  there  is  another,  Ridolfo 
by  name,  who  is  not  nearly  so  important  to  the 
art-world).  His  composition  is  similar  to  that  of 
Masaccio.  A  few  people  are  intimately  engaged, 
and  the  others  are  bystanders,  or  onlookers.  One 
characteristic  is  that  many  of  these  last  are  por- 
traits of  Florentine  men  and  women  who  were  his 
contemporaries,  and  so  we  get  from  his  pictures 
a  knowledge  of  the  people  and  costumes  of  his 
time.  His  backgrounds  are  often  masses  of  Flor- 
entine architecture,  some  of  which  you  will  readily 
recognize.  His  subjects  are  religious. 

"  For  studying  his  work,  go  again  to  Santa 
Maria  Novella,  where  is  a  series  of  frescoes  rep- 
resenting scenes  in  the  lives  of  the  Virgin  Mary 
and  John  the  Baptist.  I  would  give  some  time 
to  these,  for  in  them  you  will  find  all  the  char- 
acteristics of  Ghirlandajo's  frescoes,  which  are  his 
strongest  work.  Then  you  will  find  two  good 
examples  of  his  tempera  painting  on  wooden 
panels  in  the  Uffizi  Gallery :  an  Adoration  of  the 
Magi,  and  a  Madonna  and  Saints,  which  are  in  the 
Sala  di  Lorenzo  Monaco  near  Fra  Angelico's 
Madonna  —  the  one  which  is  surrounded  by  the 


HOWARDS    QUESTIONINGS.  137 

famous  musical  Angels.  Others  are  in  the  Pitti 
Gallery  and  Academy.  His  goldsmith's  training 
shows  in  these  smaller  pictures  more  than  in 
the  frescoes.  We  see  it  in  his  love  for  paint- 
ing golden  ornaments  and  decoration  of  gar- 
ments." 

"  Is  his  work  anything  like  that  of  Michael 
Angelo,  Mr.  Sumner  ? "  asked  Barbara.  "  He 
was  Angelo's  teacher,  was  he  not  ? " 

"  Yes,  history  tells  us  that  he  held  that  position 
for  three  years ;  but  judging  from  the  work  of 
both,  I  should  say  that  not  much  was  either 
taught  or  learned.  Ghirlandajo's  work  possesses 
great  strength,  as  does  Michael  Angelo's,  but  on 
wholly  different  lines.  Ghirlandajo  loved  to  rep- 
resent grave,  dignified  figures,  —  which  were  por- 
traits,—  clad  in  long  gowns,  stiff  brocades,  and 
flowing  mantles ;  and  there  are  superb  accessories 
in  his  pictures,  —  landscapes,  architecture,  and 
decorated  interiors.  On  the  other  hand,  Michael 
Angelo's  figures  are  most  impersonal,  and  each 
depends  for  effect  simply  on  its  own  magnificence 
of  conception  and  rendering.  The  lines  of  figures 
are  of  far  more  importance  than  the  face,  which 
is  the  farthest  possible  removed  from  the  portrait 
—  and  for  accessories  of  any  kind  he  cared  not 
at  all." 

At   this   moment   callers  were   announced  and 


138  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Mr.   Sumner  said  they  would   resume   their   talk 
some  other  time. 

"  It  will  be  well  for  you  if  you  can  look  at  these 
paintings  by  Ghirlandajo  to-morrow  morning  if  it 
be  a  bright  day,"  he  said,  "while  all  that  I  have 
told  you  is  fresh  in  your  minds.  I  cannot  go 
with  you,  but  if  you  think  of  anything  you  would 
like  to  ask  me  about  them,  you  can  do  so  before 
we  begin  on  Botticelli." 


Chapter  IX. 
The  Coming-out  Party. 


Like  the  swell  of  some  sweet  tune, 

Morning  rises  into  noon, 

May  glides  onward  into  June. 

—  LONGFELLOW. 


PALAZZO     PITTI,    FLORENCE. 


u  T  X  J  ELL,  have  you  seen  Ghirlandajo's  work  ? " 
V  V  asked  Mr.  Sumner,  the  next  time  the  little 
group  met  in  the  library. 

"  Only  his  frescoes  in  Santa  Maria  Novella. 
We  have  spent  two  entire  mornings  looking  at 
those,"  answered  Bettina. 

"  We  took  your  list  of  the  portraits  there  with 
us,  uncle,"  said  Malcom,  "and  tried  to  get  ac- 
quainted with  those  old  Florentine  bishops,  bank- 
ers, and  merchants  that  he  painted." 

"  And  oh !  isn't  that  Ginevra  de'  Benci  in  the 
Meeting  of  Mary  and  Elizabeth  lovely !  and  her 
golden  brocaded  dress  !  "  cried  Margery. 

"  You  pay  quite  a  compliment  to  the  old  painter's 
power  of  representing  men  and  women,"  said  Mr. 
Sumner,  "  for  these  evidently  captivated  you.  I 
wish  I  could  have  overheard  you  talking  by  your- 

stlves." 

141 


142  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

"  I  fear  we  could  not  appreciate  the  best  things, 
though,"  said  Barbara.  "We  imagined  ourselves 
in  old  Florence  of  the  fifteenth  century,  and  tried 
to  recognize  the  mountains  and  palaces  in  the 
backgrounds,  and  we  enjoyed  the  people  and  ad- 
mired their  fine  clothes.  I  do  think,  however, 
that  these  last  seem  often  too  stiff  and  as  if  made 
of  metal  rather  than  of  silk,  satin,  or  cloth.  And 
when  Howard  told  us  that  Mr.  Ruskin  says  '  they 
hang  from  the  figures  as  they  would  from  clothes- 
pegs,'  we  could  but  laugh,  and  think  he  is  right 
with  regard  to  some  of  them.  Ought  we  to  ad- 
mire everything  in  these  old  pictures,  Mr.  Sum- 
ner  ? "  she  earnestly  added. 

"  Not  at  all ;  not  by  any  means.  I  would  not 
have  you  think  this  for  a  moment.  Ghirlandajo's 
paintings  are  famous  and  worthy  because  they  are 
such  an  advance  on  what  was  before  him.  Com- 
pare his  men  and  women  with  those  by  Giotto. 
You  know  how  much  you  found  of  interest  and  to 
admire  in  Giotto's  pictures  when  you  compared 
them  with  Cimabue's  and  with  the  old  Greek 
Byzantine  paintings.  Just  so  compare  those  by 
Masaccio  and  Ghirlandajo  with  what  was  done 
before.  See  the  growth, — the  steady  evolution, 
—  and  realize  that  Ghirlandajo  was  honest  and 
earnest,  and  gifted  too ;  that  his  drawing  is  firm 
and  truer  to  nature  than  that  of  most  contempo- 


THE    COMING-OUT    PARTY.  143 

rary  artists ;  that  his  portraits  possess  character ; 
that  they  are  well-bred  and  important,  as  the 
people  they  represent  were;  that  his  mountains 
are  like  mountains  even  in  some  of  their  subtile 
lines ;  that  his  rivers  wind ;  that  his  masses  of 
architecture  are  in  good  perspective  and  pro- 
portion ;  and  then  you  will  excuse  his  faults, 
though  it  is  right  to  notice  and  feel  them.  We 
must  see  many  in  the  work  of  every  artist  until 
we  come  to  the  great  painters  of  the  High 
Renaissance.  You  must  find  Ghirlandajo's  other 
pictures,  and  study  them  also." 

"Now  about  Botticelli,"  he  added.  A  little 
rustle  of  expectancy  swept  through  the  group  of 
listeners.  Bettina  drew  nearer  Barbara  and  clasped 
her  hand ;  and  all  settled  themselves  anew  with 
an  especial  air  of  interest.  "  I  see  you,  like 
most  other  people,  care  more  for  him.  He  is 
immensely  popular  at  present.  It  is  quite  the 
fashion  to  admire  him.  But,  strangely  enough, 
only  a  few  years  ago  little  was  known  or  cared 
about  his  work,  and  his  name  is  not  even  men- 
tioned by  some  writers  on  art.  He  was  first  a 
goldsmith  like  Ghirlandajo,  then  afterward  became 
a  pupil  of  Fra  Filippo  Lippi,  father  of  the  Filip- 
pino  Lippi  who  finished  Masaccio's  frescoes  in  the 
Brancacci  Chapel.  Botticelli  wrought  an  immense 
service  to  painting  by  widening  greatly  the  field  of 


144  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

subjects  hitherto  assigned  to  it,  which  had  been 
confined  to  Bible  incidents.  Others,  contemporary 
with  him,  were  beginning  to  depart  slightly  from 
these  subjects  in  response  to  the  desires  of  the 
pleasure-loving  Florentines  of  that  day ;  but  Botti- 
celli was  the  first  to  come  deliberately  forth  and 
make  art  minister  to  the  pleasure  and  education  of 
the  secular  as  well  as  the  religious  world.  By 
nature  he  loved  myths,  fables,  and  allegories,  and 
freely  introduced  them  into  his  pictures.  He 
painted  Venuses,  Cupids,  and  nymphs  just  as  will- 
ingly as  Madonnas  and  saints. 

"  I  hope  you  will  read  diligently  about  him. 
The  story  of  how  his  pictures,  and  those  of  other 
artists  who  were  influenced  by  him,  led  to  the 
protest  which  Savonarola  (who  lived  at  the  same 
time)  made  against  the  '  corrupting  influence  of  pro- 
fane pictures  '  and  his  demand  that  bonfires  should 
be  made  of  them  is  most  interesting.  Botticelli 
devotedly  contributed  a  large  number  of  his  paint- 
ings to  the  burning  piles." 

"  But  he  painted  religious  pictures  also,  did  he 
not  ?  "  queried  Barbara. 

"  Oh,  yes.  His  works  were  wrought  in  churches 
as  well  as  in  private  houses  and  palaces.  He  even 
received  the  honor  of  being  summoned  to  Rome 
by  Pope  Sixtus  IV.  to  assist  in  the  decoration  of 
the  Sistine  Chapel  of  the  Vatican,  where  Michael 


THE   COMING-OUT   PARTY.  145 

Angelo  afterward  performed  his  greatest  work. 
There  he  painted  three  large  religious  frescoes  — 
by  the  way,  Ghirlandajo  painted  there  also.  Now 
we  must  find  what  is  the  charm  in  Botticelli's 
painting  that  accounts  for  the  wonderful  present 
interest  in  his  work.  I  think  it  is  in  a  large  degree 
his  attempt  to  put  expression  into  faces.  While 
Masaccio  had  taken  a  long  step  in  advance  of 
other  artists  by  making  man  himself,  rather  than 
events,  the  chief  interest  in  his  pictures,  —  Botti- 
celli, more  imaginative  and  poetic,  painted  man's 
moods,  —  his  subtile  feelings.  You  are  all  some- 
what familiar,  through  their  reproductions,  with 
his  Madonna  pictures.  How  do  these  differ  from 
those  of  other  painters  ? " 

"  The  faces  are  less  pretty." 

"  They  are  sad  instead  of  joyous." 

"  In  some  the  little  Christ  looks  as  though  he 
were  trying  to  comfort  his  mother." 

"The  angels  look  as  if  they  longed  to  help 
both,"  were  some  of  the  quick  answers. 

"  Yes ;  inner  feelings,  you  see.  Sometimes  he 
put  a  crown  of  thorns  somewhere  in  a  picture, 
as  if  to  explain  its  expressions.  His  Madonna  is 
'  pondering  these  things,'  as  Scripture  says,  and  the 
Child-Christ  and  angels  are  in  intense  sympathy 
with  her.  We  long  to  look  again  and  again  at 
such  pictures  —  they  move  us. 


146  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

"  Another  characteristic  of  his  work  is  the  action 
—  a  vehement  impetuous  motion.  You  will  find 
this  finely  illustrated  in  his  Allegory  of  Spring,  a 
very  famous  picture  in  the  Academy.  His  type 
of  figure  and  face  is  most  easily  recognizable  ; 
the  limbs  are  long  and  slender,  and  often  show 
through  almost  transparent  garments;  the  hands 
are  long  and  nervous;  the  faces  are  Tather  long 
also,  with  prominent  rounded  chins  and  full  lips. 
He  put  delicate  patterns  of  gold  embroidery  about 
the  neck  and  wrists  of  the  Madonna's  gown  and 
the  edges  of  her  mantle,  and  heaped  gold  all 
over  the  lights  on  the  curled  hair  of  her  angels 
and  other  attendants.  You  can  never  ^mistake  one 
of  these  pictures  when  once  you  have  grown  famil- 
iar with  his  style. 

"  I  think  you  should  study  particularly  his 
Allegory  of  Spring  in  the  Academy  for  full  length 
figures  in  motion.  You  will  find  the  color  of  this 
picture  happily  weird  to  agree  with  the  fantastic 
conception.  Then  in  the  Ufnzi  Gallery  you  will 
find  several  pictures  of  the  Madonna ;  notable 
among  them  is  his  Coronation  of  the  Virgin,  painted, 
as  he  was  fond  of  doing,  on  a  round  board.  Such 
a  picture  is  called  a  tondo.  Here  you  will  find  all 
his  characteristics. 

"  Study  this  first ;  study  figures,  faces,  hands,  and 
methods  of  technique ;  then  see  if  you  cannot 


CORONATION    OF  THE  VIRGIN. 


THE    COMING-OUT    PARTY.  147 

readily  find  the  other  examples  without  your 
catalogue.  A  noted  one  is  Calumny.  This  ex- 
emplifies strikingly  Botticelli's  power  of  express- 
ing swift  motion.  In  the  Pitti  Palace  is  a  very 
interesting  one  called  Pallas,  or  Triumph  of  Wis- 
dom over  Barbarity,  —  strangely  enough,  found  only 
recently." 

"  Found  only  recently  ;  how  can  that  be,  uncle  ?  " 
quickly  asked  Malcom. 

'  "  The  picture  was  known  to  have  been  painted, 
for  Vasari  described  it  in  his  '  Life  of  Botti- 
celli,' but  it  was  lost  sight  of  until  an  Englishman 
discovered  it  in  an  old  private  collection  which  had 
been  for  many  years  in  the  Pitti  Palace,  suspected 
it  to  be  the  missing  picture,  and  connoisseurs 
agree  that  it  is  genuine.  There  was  a  great  deal  of 
excitement  here  when  the  fact  was  made  known. 
The  figure  of  Pallas,  in  its  clinging  transparent 
garment,  is  strikingly  beautiful,  and  characteristic 
of  Botticelli.  The  picture  was  painted  as  a  glori- 
fication1 of  the  wise  reign  of  the  Medici,  who  did 
so  much  for  the  intellectual  advancement  of 
Florence." 

Then  Mr.  Sumner  told  them  that  he  was  to  be 
absent  from  Florence  for  a  week  or  two,  and  should 
be  exceedingly  busy  for  some  time,  and  so  would 
leave  them  to  go  on  with  their  study  of  the  pictures 
byp  themselves, 


148  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

"  I  have  been  delighted,"  he  said,  "  to  know  how 
much  time  you  have  spent  in  going  again  and 
again  to  the  churches  and  galleries  in  order  to 
become  familiar  with  the  painters  whom  we  have 
especially  considered.  This  is  the  real  and  the 
only  way  to  make  the  study  valuable.  Do  the 
same  with  regard  to  the  pictures  by  Ghirlandajo 
and  Botticelli,  and  if  I  have  not  given  you  enough 
to  do  until  I  am  free,  again  to  talk  with  you,  study 
the  frescoes  by  Filippino  Lippi  in  Santa  Maria 
Novella,  and  compare  them  with  those  in  the 
Brancacci  Chapel ;  and  his  easel  pictures  in  the 
Uffizi  and  Pitti  Galleries.  Get  familiar  also  with 
his  father's  (Fra  Filippo's)  Madonna  pictures.  You 
will  find  in  them  a  type  of  face  so  often  repeated 
that  you  will  always  recognize  it;  it  is  just  the 
opposite  of  Botticelli's,  —  short  and  childish,  with 
broad  jaws,  and  simple  as  childhood  in  expression. 
I  shall  be  most  interested  to  know  what  you  have 
done,  and  what  your  thoughts  have  been." 

"  We  certainly  shall  not  do  much  but  look  at 
pictures  for  weeks  to  come,  uncle ;  that  is  sure  ! ': 
said  Malcom,  "  for  the  girls  are  bewitched  with 
them,  and  now  that  they  think  they  can  learn  to 
know,  as  soon  as  they  see  it,  a  Giotto,  a  Fra  Angel- 
ico,  a  Botticelli,  or  a  Fra  Filippo  Lippi,  they  win 
be  simply  crazy.  You  ought  to  hear  the  learned 
way  in  which  they  are  beginning  to  discourse 


THE   COMING-OUT  PARTY.  149 

about  them.      They   don't  do  it   when   you   are 
around." 

"  Oh,  Malcom  !  who  was  it  that  must  wait  a  few 
minutes  longer,  the  other  morning,  in  Santa  Maria 
Novella  in  order  to  run  downstairs  and  give  one 
more  look  at  Giotto's  frescoes  ? "  laughed  Bettina. 

Barbara's  and  Bettina's  eighteenth  birthday  was 
drawing  near.  Mrs.  Douglas  had  for  a  long  time 
planned  to  give  a  party  to  thern,  and  had  fully 
arranged  the  details  before  she  spoke  of  it  to  the 
girls. 

"  It  shall  be  your  '  coming-out  party '  here  in 
Florence,"  she  said  ;  "  not  a  large  party,  but  a  thor- 
oughly pleasant  and  enjoyable  one,  I  am  sure." 

And  the  circle  of  friends  who  were  eager  to 
know  and  to  add  to  the  pleasure  of  any  one  be- 
longing to  Robert  Sumner  seemed  to  ensure  this. 
Mrs.  Douglas  further  said  that  she  did  not  wish 
them  to  give  a  thought  to  what  they  would  wear 
on  the  occasion,  but  to  leave  everything  with  her. 
Every  girl  of  eighteen  years  will  readily  understand 
what  a  flutter  of  joyous  excitement  Barbara  and  Bet- 
tina felt,  and  how  they  talked  over  the  coming  event, 
when  they  were  alone.  Finally  Bettina  asked  :  — 

"Why  does  Mrs.  Douglas  do  so  much  for  us? 
How  can  we  ever  repay  her  ? " 
.  '  We  can  never  repay  her,  Betty,"  replied  her 


I5O  BARBARAS    HERITAGE. 

sister.  "  Nor  does  she  wish  it.  I  do  not  know 
why  she  is  so  kind.  She  must  love  us,  or,  — 
perhaps  it  is  because  she  is  so  fond  of  papa.  Do 
you  know,  Betty,  that  our  father  once  saved  her 
life  ?  She  told  me  about  it  only  yesterday,  and  I 
did  not  think  to  tell  you  last  night,  there  was  so 
much  to  talk  about.  It  was  when  she  was  a  little 
girl  of  twelve  or  thirteen  years  and  papa  was  just 
beginning  to  practise.  You  know  her  father  was 
very  wealthy,  and  had  helped  him  to  get  his  pro- 
fession because  the  two  families  were  always  so 
intimate.  Well,  Mrs.  Douglas  was  so  ill  that  three 
or  four  doctors  said  they  could  do  nothing  more  for 
her,  and  she  must  die.  Of  course  her  father  and 
mother  were  broken-hearted.  And  papa  went  to 
them,  and  for  days  and  nights  did  not  sleep  and 
hardly  ate,  but  was  with  her  every  moment ;  and 
the  older  doctors  acknowledged  that  but  for  him 
she  could  never  have  lived.  —  And,  just  think!  he 
never  said  a  word  about  it  to  us !  " 

"  Our  father  never  talks  of  the  good  and  noble 
things  he  does,"  said  Bettina,  proudly.  "  No 
wonder  she  loves  him ;  but  I  do  really  think  she 
loves  us  too.  Only  the  other  day  Malcom  said  he 
should  be  jealous  were  it  anybody  but  you  and  me. 
So  I  think  all  we  can  do  is  to  keep  on  doing  just 
as  we  have  done,  and  love  her  more  dearly  than 
ever." 


THE    COMING-OUT    PARTY.  151 

"  I  wonder  if  there  are  any  other  girls  in  the 
world  so  happy  as  we  are,"  she  added  after  a 
moment's  silence  —  and  the  two  pairs  of  brown 
eyes  looked  into  each  other  volumes  of  tender 
sympathy  and  gladness. 

What  a  day  was  that  birthday !  Barbara  and 
Bettina  will  surely  tell  of  it  to  their  children  and 
grandchildren  !  First  of  all  came  letters  from  the 
dear  home  —  birthday  letters  which  Mrs.  Douglas 
had  withheld  for  a  day  or  two  so  that  they  should 
be  read  at  the  fitting  time.  Then  the  lovely  gifts ! 
From  Margery,  an  exquisite  bit  of  sculptured 
marble  for  each,  chosen  after  much  consultation 
with  her  uncle  and  many  visits  to  Via  dei  Fossi ; 
from  Malcom,  copies  of  two  of  Fra  Angelico's 
musical  Angels,  each  in  a  rich  frame  of  Florentine 
hand-carving  (for  everything  must  be  purely  Flor- 
entine, all  had  agreed);  from  Mr.  Sumner,  port- 
folios of  the  finest  possible  photographs  of  the  best 
works  of  Florentine  masters  from  the  very  begin- 
ning down  through  the  High  Renaissance. 

Mrs.  Douglas  gave  them  most  lovely  outfits  for 
the  party  —  gowns  of  white  chiffon  daintily  em- 
broidered —  slippers,  gloves  —  everything  needful ; 
while  Howard  had  asked  that  he  might  provide  all 
the  flowers. 

When  finally  Barbara  and  Bettina  stood  on  either 
side  of  Mrs.  Douglas  in  the  floral  bower  where 


152  BARBARAS    HERITAGE. 

they  received  their  guests,  it  was  indeed  as  if  they 
were  in  fairy-land.  It  did  not  seem  possible  that 
any  more  pink  or  white  roses  could  be  left  in 
Florence,  if  indeed  all  Italy  had  not  been  laid 
under  tribute,  —  so  lavish  had  Howard  been. 
Barbara  carried  white  roses,  and  Bettina  pink  ones, 
and  everywhere  through  the  entire  house  were  the 
exquisite  things,  peeping  out  from  amidst  the 
daintiest  greens  possible,  or  superb  in  the  sim- 
plicity of  their  own  magnificence. 

The  lovely  American  girls  were  the  cynosure  of 
all  eyes,  and  the  flattering  things  said  to  them  by 
foreigners  and  Americans  were  almost  enough  to 
turn  their  heads.  Mrs.  Douglas  was  delighted 
with  the  simple  frankness  and  dignity  with  which 
they  met  all. 

"  You  may  trust  well-bred  American  girls  any- 
where," she  said  to  her  brother  as  she  met  him 
later  in  the  evening,  after  all  her  guests  had  been 
welcomed,  "  especially  such  as  are  ours,"  and 
she  called  his  attention  to  Barbara,  who  at  that 
moment  was  approaching  on  the  arm  of  a 
distinguished-looking  man,  who  was  evidently 
absorbed  with  his  fair  companion. 

Perfectly  unconscious  of  herself,  she  moved 
with  so  much  of  womanly  grace  that  Robert 
Sumner  was  startled.  She  seemed  like  a  stranger; 
this  tall,  queenly  creature  could  not  be  the  every- 


THE    COMING-OUT    PARTY.  153 

day  Barbara  who  had  been  little  more  than  a 
child  to  him.  In  passing  she  looked  with  a  lov- 
ing smile  at  Mrs.  Douglas,  and  then  for  a  moment 
her  eyes  with  the  light  still  in  them  met  his,  and 
slowly  turned  away.  The  soft  flush  on  her  cheek 
deepened,  and  Robert  Sumner  felt  the  swift  blood 
surge  back  upon  his  heart  until  his  head  swam. 
When  last  had  he  seen  such  a  look  in  woman's 
eyes  ?  Ah !  how  he  had  loved  those  sweet  dark 
eyes  long  years  ago  !  Oh  !  the  desolate  longing ! 

Mrs.  Douglas's  look  had  followed  Barbara  — 
then  had  sought  Bettina,  who,  with  Margery  by 
her  side,  was  surrounded  by  a  little  group  of 
admirers ;  so  she  was  conscious  of  nothing  un- 
usual. But  Miss  Sherman,  who  stood  near,  had 
seen  Barbara's  flush  and  noted  Mr.  Sumner's 
momentary  pallor,  and  afterward  his  evident 
effort  to  be  just  himself  again.  What  could  it 
mean  ?  she  thought. 

All  through  the  evening  she  had  suffered  from 
a  little  unreasonable  jealousy  as  she  had  realized 
for  the  first  time  that  these  "Burnett  girls,"  — 
mere  companions  of  Margery,  as  she  had  always 
thought  of  them,  —  were  really  young  ladies,  and 
most  unusually  beautiful  ones,  as  she  was  forced 
to  confess  to  herself.  She  envied  them  the  oc- 
casion, the  honor  they  gained  through  their  in- 
timate connection  with  Mr.  Sumner  and  Mrs. 


154  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Douglas,  and  the  impression  they  were  so  evi- 
dently making  on  everybody.  She  was  not  broad 
or  generous  minded  enough  to  be  glad  for  the 
young  girls  from  her  own  country  as  a  nobler- 
minded  woman  would  have  been.  But  that  there 
could  be  any  especial  feeling,  or  even  momentary 
thought,  between  Mr.  Sumner  and  Barbara  was 
too  absurd  to  be  considered  for  a  moment.  That 
could  not  be. 

Drawing  near,  she  joined  Mrs.  Douglas  and 
Mr.  Sumner,  and  again  sweetly  congratulated 
them  on  the  success  of  their  party,  the  beauty  of 
the  rooms,  etc. 

"  The  young  girls,  too,"  she  said,  "  I  am  sure 
do  you  great  credit  —  quite  grown-up  they  seem, 
I  declare.  What  a  difference  clothes  make,  do 
they  not  ?  I  have  been  a  bit  amused  by  some 
of  their  pretty  airs,  as  an  older  woman  could  not 
fail  to  be,"  and  an  indulgent  smile  played  about 
her  lips. 

As  it  was  time  to  go  to  the  dining  room  for 
refreshments,  Mrs.  Douglas,  in  accordance  with 
a  preconceived  plan,  asked  her  brother  to  lead 
the  way  with  Miss  Sherman.  When  Barbara 
entered  the  room  soon  after  with  Howard,  she 
saw  the  two  sitting  behind  the  partial  screen  of 
a  big  palm.  She  felt  a  momentary  wish  that  she 
could  know  what  they  were  so  earnestly  talking 


THE   COMING-OUT   PARTY.  I $5 

about,    and,    presently,    was    conscious    that   Mr. 
Sumner's  eyes  sought  her. 

But  how  little  she  thought  that  she,  herself, 
was  the  subject  of  their  conversation,  or  rather 
of  Miss  Sherman's,  who  was  saying  how  apparent 
the  devotion  of  Mr.  Sinclair  was  to  every  one, 
and  that  surely  Barbara  must  reciprocate  his 
feeling,  else  she  would  withdraw  from  him ;  and 
how  pleasant  it  was  to  see  such  young  people, 
just  in  the  beginning  of  life,  becoming  so  inter- 
ested in  each  other;  and  how  romantic  to  thus 
find  each  other  in  such  a  city  as  Florence;  and 
what  an  advantage  to  become  allied  with  such 
an  old,  wealthy  family  as  the  Sinclairs,  and  so 
on  and  on. 


Chapter  X. 
The  Mystery  Unfolds  to  Howard. 


JVe  are  in  God's  band. 

How  strange  now  looks  the  life  He  makes  us  lead: 
So  free  we  seem,  so  fettered  fast  -we  are! 
I  feel  He  laid  the  fetter  :  let  it  lie  ! 

—  BROWNING. 


SAN    MINIATO    AL    MONTE,    FLORENCE. 


THE  weeks  sped  rapidly  on  ;  midwinter  had 
come  and  gone,  and  four  months  had  been 
numbered  since  Mrs.  Douglas  had  brought  Mal- 
com,  Margery,  Barbara,  and  Bettina  to  Italy. 

Although  social  pleasures  and  duties  had  multi- 
plied, yet  study  had  never  been  given  up.  A 
steady  advance  had  been  made  in  knowledge  of 
the  history  of  Florence,  and  of  her  many  legends 
and  traditions.  They  had  not  forgotten  or  passed 
by  the  sculptured  treasures  of  the  city,  but  had 
learned  something  of  Donatello,  her  first  great 
sculptor ;  of  Lorenzo  Ghiberti,  who  wrought  those 
exquisite  gates  of  bronze  for  Dante's  "  II  mio  bel 
San  Giovanni "  that  Michael  Angelo  declared  to 
be  fit  for  the  gates  of  Paradise  ;  and  of  Brunelles- 
chi,  the  architect  of  her  great  Duomo. 

Jhrough  all  had  gone  on  their  study  of  the 
'59 


160  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Florentine  painters.  After  much  patient  work 
given  to  pictures  of  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth 
centuries,  they  were  now  quite  revelling  in  the 
beauty  of  those  of  the  sixteenth  century,  or  the 
High  Renaissance.  This  was  all  the  more  inter- 
esting since  they  had  seen  how  one  after  another 
the  early  difficulties  had  been  overcome ;  how  each 
great  master  succeeding  Cimabue  had  added  his 
contribution  of  thought  and  endeavor  until  artists 
knew  all  the  laws  that  govern  the  art  of  representa- 
tion ;  and  how  finally,  the  method  of  oil-painting 
having  been  introduced,  they  then  had  a  fitting 
medium  with  which  to  express  their  knowledge  and 
artistic  endeavor. 

They  had  read  about  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  one  of 
the  greatest  masters,  so  famous  for  his  portrayal 
of  subtile  emotion,  and  were  wonderfully  interested 
in  his  life  and  work ;  had  been  to  the  Academy  to 
see  the  Baptism  of  Christ,  painted  by  his  master, 
Andrea  Verrocchio,  and  were  very  positive  that 
the  angel  on  the  left,  who  holds  Christ's  garment, 
was  painted  by  young  Leonardo.  They  had 
studied  his  unfinished  Adoration  of  the  Magi  in 
the  Uffizi  —  his  only  authentic  work  in  Florence 
—  and  had  wished  much  that  they  could  see  his 
other  and  greater  pictures.  Mr.  Sumner  had  told 
them  that  in  the  early  summer  they  would  proba- 
bly go  to  Milan,  and  there  see  the  famous  Last 


THE    MYSTERY    UNFOLDS   TO   HOWARD.          l6l 

Supper  and  Study  for  the  Head  of  Christ,  and  that 
perhaps  later  they  might  visit  Paris  and  there  find 
his  Mona  Lisa  and  other  works. 

They  had  been  much  interested  in  the  many 
examples  of  Fra  Bartolommeo's  painting  that 
are  in  San  Marco  —  where  he,  as  well  as  Fra 
Angelico,  had  been  a  monk  ;  —  in  the  Academy, 
and  in  the  Uffizi  and  Pitti  galleries ;  and  had 
learned  to  recognize  the  peculiarities  of  his 
grouping  of  figures,  and  their  abstract,  devo- 
tional faces,  his  treatment  of  draperies,  and  the 
dear  little  angels,  with  their  musical  instru- 
ments, that  are  so  often  sitting  at  the  feet  of  his 
madonnas. 

They  were  fascinated  by  Andrea  del  Sarto, 
whom  they  followed  all  over  the  city  wherever 
they  could  find  either  his  frescoes  or  easel 
pictures.  His  color  especially  enchanted  them, 
after  they  had  looked  at  so  many  darkened  and 
faded  pictures.  The  story  of  his  unquenchable 
love  for  his  faithless  wife,  and  how  he  painted 
her  face  into  all  his  pictures,  either  as  madonna 
or  saint,  played  upon  their  romantic  feelings. 
Margery  learned  Browning's  poem  about  them, 
and  often  quoted  from  it.  They  were  never  tired 
of  looking  at  his  Holy  Fain  Hies  and  Madonnas 
in  the  galleries,  but  especially  loved  to  go  to 
the,  S.  S.  Annunziata  and  linger  in  the  court, 


162  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

surrounded  by  glass  colonnades,  where  are  so 
many  of  his  frescoes. 

"  Do  you  suppose  it  is  true  that  his  wife, 
Lucrezia,  used  to  come  here  after  he  was  dead 
and  she  was  an  old  woman,  to  look  at  the  pic- 
tures ? "  asked  Margery  one  morning,  when  they 
had  found  their  favorite  place. 

"  I  think  it  would  be  just  like  her  vanity  to 
point  out  her  own  likeness  to  people  who  were 
copying  or  looking  at  the  frescoes,  according  to 
the  old  story,"  answered  Bettina,  with  a  dis- 
approving shake  of  the  head. 

"Well,"  said  Barbara,  "the  faces  and  figures 
and  draperies  are  all  lovely.  But  I  suppose  it 
is  true,  as  Mr.  Sumner  says,  that  Andrea  del 
Sarto  did  not  try  to  make  the  faces  show  any 
holy  feeling,  or  indeed  any  very  noble  expression, 
so  that  they  are  not  so  great  pictures  as  they 
would  have  been  had  he  been  high-minded  enough 
to  do  such  things." 

"  It  is  a  shame  to  have  a  man's  life  and  work 
harmed  by  a  woman,  even  though  she  was  his 
wife,"  said  Malcom,  emphatically. 

"All  the  more  that  she  was  his  wife,"  said 
Barbara.  "  But  I  do  not  believe  he  could  have 
done  much  better  without  Lucrezia.  I  think  his 
very  love  for  such  a  woman  shows  a  weakness 
in  his  character.  It  would  have  been  better  if  he 


THE    MYSTERY    UNFOLDS   TO    HOWARD.          163 

had  chosen  other  than  sacred  subjects,  would   it 
not,  Howard?" 

They  were  quite  at  home  in  their  study  of  these 
more  modern  pictures,  with  photographs  of  which 
they  were  already  somewhat  familiar.  Howard, 
especially,  had  always  had  a  fine  and  critical 
taste  regarding  art  matters,  and  now,  among  the 
works  of  artists  of  whom  he  knew  something,  « 
was  a  valuable  member  of  the  little  coterie,  and 
often  appealed  to  when  Mr.  Sumner  was  absent. 

And  thus  they  had  talked  over  and  over  again 
the  impressions  which  each  artist  and  his  work 
made  on  them,  until  even  Mr.  Sumner  was  aston- 
ished and  delighted  at  the  evident  result  of  the 
interest  he  had  awakened. 

But  the  chief  man  and  artist  they  were  now 
considering,  was  Michael  Angelo  ;  and  the  more 
they  learned  of  him  the  more  true  it  was,  they 
thought,  that  he  "filled  all  Florence."  They 
eagerly  followed  every  step  of  his  life  from  the 
time  when,  a  young  lad,  he  entered  Ghirlandajo's 
studio,  until  he  was  brought  to  Florence  —  a  dead 
old  man,  concealed  in  a  bale  of  merchandise, 
because  the  authorities  refused  permission  to  his 
friends  to  take  his  body  from  Rome  —  and  was 
buried  at  midnight  in  Santa  Croce. 

They  tried  to  imagine  his  life  during  the  four 
years  which  he  spent  in  the  Medici  Palace,  now 


164  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Palazzo  Riccardi,  under  the  patronage  of  Lorenzo 
the  Magnificent,  while  he  was  studying  with  the 
same  tremendous  energy  that  marked  all  his  life, 
going  almost  daily  to  the  Brancacci  Chapel  to 
learn  from  Masaccio's  frescoes,  and  plunging  into 
the  subject  of  anatomy  more  like  a  devotee  than 
a  student. 

They  learned  of  his  visit  to  Rome,  where, 
before  he  was  twenty-five  years  old,  he  sculptured 
the  grand  Pietd,  or  Dead  Christ,  which  is  still 
in  St.  Peter's;  and  of  his  return  to  Florence,  where 
he  foresaw  his  David  in  the  shapeless  block  of 
marble,  and  gained  permission  of  the  commis- 
sioners to  hew  it  out,  —  the  David  which  stood  so 
long  under  the  shadow  of  old  gray  Palazzo  Vecchio, 
but  is  now  in  the  Academy. 

Then  came  the  beginnings  of  his  painting ;  and 
they  saw  the  Holy  Family  of  the  Uffizi  Gallery  — 
his  only  finished  easel  picture — which  possesses 
more  of  the  qualities  of  sculpture  than  painting ; 
and  read  about  his  competition  with  Leonardo  da 
Vinci  when  he  prepared  the  famous  Cartoon  of 
Pisa,  now  known  to  the  world  only  by  fragment- 
ary copies. 

Then  Pope  Julius  II.  summoned  him  back  to 
Rome  to  begin  work  on  that  vast  monument  con- 
ceived for  the  commemoration  of  his  own  greatness, 
and  destined  never  to  be  finished ;  and  afterward 


THE    MYSTERY    UNFOLDS   TO    HOWARD.          165 

gave  him  the  commission  to  paint  the  ceiling  of  the 
Sistine  Chapel  of  the  Vatican. 

Returning  to  Florence  in  an  interval  of  this 
work,  he  sculptured  the  magnificent  Medici  monu- 
ments, to  see  which  they  often  visited  the  Chapel 
of  the  Medici.  At  the  same  time,  since  the  pros- 
pect of  war  had  come  to  the  beautiful  city,  he 
built  those  famous  fortifications  on  San  Miniato 
through  whose  gateway  they  entered  whenever 
they  visited  this  lovely  hill,  crowned  by  a  noble 
old  church  and  a  quiet  city  of  the  dead. 

They  drove  out  to  Settignano  to  visit  the  villa 
where  he  lived  when  a  child,  and  which  he  owned 
all  his  life ;  and  went  to  Casa  Buonarroti  in  Flor- 
ence, where  his  descendants  have  gathered  to- 
gether what  they  could  of  the  great  master's 
sketches,  early  bas-reliefs,  and  manuscripts.  Here 
they  looked  with  reverence  upon  his  handwriting, 
and  little  clay  models  moulded  by  his  own  fingers. 

They  talked  of  his  affection  for  the  noble  Vit- 
toria  Colonna,  and  read  the  sonnets  he  wrote  to 
her. 

In  short,  they  admired  his  great  talents,  loved 
his  character,  condoned  his  faults  of  temper,  and 
felt  the  utmost  sympathy  with  him  in  all  the  vicis- 
situdes of  his  grand,  inspiring  life. 

"  It  seems  strange,"  said  Mr.  Sumner  one  day, 
as  they  returned  from  the  Academy,  where  they 


1 66  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

had  been  looking  at  casts  and  photographs  of  his 
sculptured  works,  "  that  though  Michael  Angelo 
was  undoubtedly  greatest  as  a  sculptor,  yet  his 
most  important  works  in  the  world  of  art  are  his 
paintings.  Those  grand  frescoes  in  the  Sistine 
Chapel  in  Rome  alone  afforded  him  sufficient 
scope  for  his  wonderful  creative  genius.  When 
we  get  to  Rome  I  shall  have  much  to  tell  you 
about  them." 

The  question  as  to  the  best  thing  to  do  for  the 
remainder  of  the  year  was  often  talked  over  by 
Mrs.  Douglas  and  Mr.  Sumner.  Barbara,  Bet- 
tina,  Malcom,  and  Margery  were  so  interested  in 
their  art  study  that  it  was  finally  thought  best  to 
travel  in  such  a  way  that  this  could  be  continued 
to  advantage,  and  they  were  now  thinking  of  leav- 
ing Florence  for  Rome. 

There  had  been  one  source  of  anxiety  for  some 
time,  and  that  was  the  condition  of  Howard's  health. 
Instead  of  gain  there  seemed  to  be  a  continual  slow 
loss  of  strength  that  was  perceptible  especially  to 
Mrs.  Douglas.  He  had  recently  won  her  sincere 
respect  by  the  manful  way  in  which  he  had 
struggled  to  conceal  his  love  for  Barbara.  So 
well  did  he  succeed  that  Malcom  thought  he 
must  have  been  mistaken  in  his  conjecture,  and 
the  girls  were  as  unconscious  as  ever.  In  Bettina's 


THE'  MYSTERY    UNFOLDS    TO    HOWARD.  l? 

and  Margery's  thought,  he  was  especially  Barbara's 
friend,  but  in  no  other  way  than  Malcom  was  Bet- 
tina's ;  while  Barbara  was  happier  than  she  had 
been  in  a  long  time,'  as  he  showed  less  and  less 
frequently  signs  of  nervous  irritability  and  hurt 
feelings  whenever  she  disappointed  him  in  any 
way,  as  of  course  she  often  could  not  help  doing. 

"  Howard  ought  not  to  have  spent  the  winter 
here  in  the  cold  winds  of  Florence,"  Mrs.  Douglas 
often  had  said  to  her  brother.  "  But  what  could 
we  do  ? " 

They  were  thinking  of  hastening  their  departure 
for  Rome  on  his  account,  when  one  morning  his 
servant  came  to  the  house  in  great  alarm,  to  beg 
Mrs.  Douglas  to  go  to  his  young  master  at  once. 

"  He  is  very  ill,"  he  said,  "  and  asks  for  you 
continually." 

When  Mrs.  Douglas  and  her  brother  reached 
Howard's  hotel,  they  found  that  already  one  of 
the  most  skilful  physicians  of  the  city  was  there, 
and  that  he  wished  to  send  for  trained  nurses. 

"  I  fear  pneumonia,"  he  said,  "  and  the  poor 
young  man  is  indeed  illy  prepared  to  endure 
such  a  disease." 

"  Spare  no  pains,  no  expense,"  urged  Mr.  Sum- 
ner;  "let  the  utmost  possible  be  done." 

"  I  will  stay  with  you,"  said  Mrs.  Douglas,  as  the 
hot  hand  eagerly  clasped  hers.  "  I  will  not  leave 


1 68  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

you,  my  poor  boy,  while  you  are  ill."  And,  send- 
ing for  all  she  needed,  she  prepared  to  watch  over 
him  as  if  he  were  her  own  son. 

But  all  endeavors  to  check  the  progress  of  the 
disease  were  futile.  The  enfeebled  lungs  could 
offer  no  resistance.  One  day,  after  having  lain 
as  if  asleep  for  some  time,  Howard  opened  his 
eyes,  to  find  Mrs.  Douglas  beside  him.  With  a 
faint  smile  he  whispered  :  — 

"  I  have  been  thinking  so  much.  I  am  glad 
now  that  Barbara  does  not  love  me,  for  it  would 
only  give  her  pain  —  sometime  tell  her  of  my  love 
for  her— " 

Then  by  and  by,  with  the  tenderest  look  in  his 
large  eyes,  he  added,  "  May  she  come,  to  let  me  see 
her  once  more  ?  —  You  will  surely  trust  me  now  !  " 

"  Oh,  Howard  !  My  noble  Howard  !  "  was  all 
that  Mrs.  Douglas  could  answer ;  but  at  her  words 
a  look  of  wonderful  happiness  lighted  his  face. 

When  Mrs.  Douglas  asked  the  physician  if 
a  friend  could  be  permitted  to  see  Howard,  he 
replied :  — 

"He  cannot  live ;  therefore  let  him  have  every- 
thing he  desires." 

And  so,  before  consciousness  left  him,  Barbara 
came  with  wondering,  sorrowful  eyes,  and  in  answer 
to  his  pleading  look  and  Mrs.  Douglas's  low  word, 
bent  her  fair  young  head  and  kissed  tenderly  the 


THE    MYSTERY    UNFOLDS   TO    HOWARD.          169 

brow  of  the  dying  young  man  who  had  loved  her 
so  much  better  than  she  knew.  And  Howard's  life 
ebbed  away. 

It  was  almost  as  if  one  of  the  family  were  gone. 
They  did  not  know  how  much  a  part  of  their  life 
he  had  become  until  he  came  no  more  to  the  home 
he  had  enjoyed  so  much  —  to  talk  —  to  study  —  to 
bring  tributes  of  love  and  gratitude  —  and  to  con- 
tribute all  he  could  to  their  happiness. 

Whatever  they  would  do,  wherever  they  would 
go,  there  was  one  missing,  and  their  world  was 
sadly  changed. 

Mr.  Sumner  sent  the  mournful  tidings  to  the 
lonely  grandmother  over  the  ocean,  and  accom- 
panied the  faithful  John  as  far  as  Genoa,  on  his 
way  homeward  with  the  remains  of  the  young 
master  he  had  carried  in  his  arms  as  a  child. 

Then,  as  it  was  so  difficult  to  take  up  even  for 
a  little  time  the  old  life  in  Florence,  it  was  decided 
that  they  should  go  at  once  toward  Rome. 


Chapter  XI. 
On  the  Way  to  Rome. 


Fair  Italy  ! 

Tbou  art  the  garden  of  the  -world,  the  borne 
Of  all  art  yields,  and  nature  can  decree  : 
Even  in  thy  desert,  'what  is  like  to  tbee  f 
Thy  -very  -weeds  are  beautiful,  thy  -waste 
More  rich  than  other  climes'  fertility  : 
Thy  wreck  a  glory,  and  thy  ruin  grand 
With  an  immaculate  charm  -which  cannot  be  defaced. 

—  LORD  BYRON. 


ORVIETO    CATHEDRAL. 


u 


WE  will  take  a  roundabout  journey  to 
Rome,"  said  Mr.  Sumner,  "  and  so  get  all 
the  variety  of  scene  and  emotion  possible.  Some- 
thing that  crowds  every  moment  with  interest  will 
be  best  for  all  just  now." 

And  so  they  planned  to  go  first  of  all  to  Pisa : 
from  thence  to  Siena,  Orvieto,  Perugia,  Assisi,  and 
so  on  to  Rome. 

Miss  Sherman  had  asked  to  accompany  them, 
since  Florence  would  be  so  dull  when  they  were 
gone.  Indeed,  she  had  stayed  on  instead  of  seek- 
ing the  warmer,  more  southern  cities  simply  be- 
cause they  were  here. 

Therefore  one  morning  during  the  last  week  of 
February  all  bade  good-by  to  their  pleasant  home 
in  Florence. 

"  It  seems  like  an  age  since  we  first  came  here, 
'73 


i/4  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

doesn't  it,  Bab,  dear  ? "  said  Bettina,  as  they  en- 
tered together  the  spacious  waiting-room  of  the 
central  railroad  station. 

"Yes,  Betty;  are  we  the  same  girls?"  an- 
swered Barbara,  and  her  smile  had  just  a  touch  of 
dreariness. 

Mr.  Sumner  and  Malcom  were  seeing  to  the 
weighing  of  the  luggage;  Mrs.  Douglas,  Margery, 
and  Miss  Sherman  were  together ;  and  for  a  mo- 
ment the  two  girls  were  alone. 

Somehow  Bettina  felt  a  peculiarly  tender  care  of 
her  sister  just  now,  and  was  never  absent  from  her 
side  if  she  could  help  it.  Without  understanding 
why  or  what  it  was,  she  yet  felt  that  something  had 
happened  which  put  a  slight  barrier  between  them; 
that  something  in  which  she  had  no  share  had 
touched  Barbara.  She  had  been  wistfully  watch- 
ing her  ever  since  she  had  returned  from  the  visit 
to  Howard,  and  was  striving  to  keep  all  oppor- 
tunity for  painful  thought  from  her. 

At  present,  Barbara  shrank  from  telling  even 
Bettina,  from  whom  she  had  never  before  hidden  a 
thought,  of  that  last  meeting  with  Howard.  No 
girl  could  ever  mistake  such  a  look  as  that  which 
had  lighted  his  eyes  as  she  stooped  to  kiss  his 
brow  in  answer  to  Mrs.  Douglas's  request.  There 
would  be  no  need  for  Mrs.  Douglas  ever  to  tell  her 
the  story.  The  loving  devotion  that  shone  forth 


ON    THE    WAY   TO    ROME.  1/5 

even  in  his  uttermost  weakness  had  thrilled  her 
very  soul,  and  she  could  not  forget  it  for  a  moment 
when  alone. 

A  certain  sense  of  loss  which  she  could  not  de- 
fine followed  her.  Somehow,  it  did  mean  more  to 
her  than  it  did  to  any  one  else,  that  Howard  was 
gone  from  their  lives,  but  she  knew  that  not  even 
Betty  would  understand.  Indeed,  she  could  not 
herself  understand,  for  she  was  sure  that  she  had 
not  loved  Howard. 

Though  Barbara  did  not  know  it,  the  truth  was 
that  for  a  single  instant  she  had  felt  what  it  is  to 
be  loved  as  Howard  loved  her ;  and  the  loss  she 
felt  was  the  loss  of  love, — not  Howard's  love- 
but  love  for  itself  alone.  She  was  not  just  the 
same  girl  she  was  when  she  had  entered  Florence 
a  few  months  ago,  nor  ever  again  would  be ;  and 
between  her  and  Bettina,  —  the  sisters  who  before 
this  had  been  "as  one  soul  in  two  bodies,"  —  ran 
a  mysterious  Rubicon,  the  outer  shore  of  which 
Bettina's  feet  had  not  yet  touched. 

The  hasty  return  of  Mr.  Sumner  and  Mal- 
com  with  two  lusty  facckini,  who  seized  the 
hand-luggage,  the  hurry  to  be  among  the  first 
at  the  opening  of  the  big  doors  upon  the  plat- 
form beside  which  their  train  was  drawn  up, 
and  the  little  bustle  of  excitement  consequent 
o»  the  desire  to  secure  an  entire  compartment 


176  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

for  their  party  filled  the  next  few  minutes,  and 
soon  they  were  off. 

The  journey  led  through  a  charming  country 
lying  at  the  base  of  the  Apennines.  Picturesque 
castles  and  city-crowned  hills  against  the  back- 
ground of  blue  mountains,  many  of  whose  sum- 
mits were  covered  with  gleaming  snow,  kept  them 
looking  and  exclaiming  with  delight,  until  finally 
they  reached  Lucca,  and,  sweeping  in  a  half  circle 
around  Monte  San  Giuliano,  which,  as  Dante  wrote, 
hides  the  two  cities,  Lucca  and  Pisa,  from  each 
other,  they  arrived  at  Pisa. 

Although  they  expected  to  find  an  old,  worn-out 
city,  yet  only  Mr.  Sumner  and  Mrs.  Douglas  were 
quite  prepared  for  the  dilapidated  carriages  that 
were  waiting  to  take  them  from  the  station  to  their 
hotels  ;  for  the  almost  deserted  streets,  and  the 
general  pronounced  air  of  decadence.  Even  the 
Arno  seemed  to  have  lost  all  freshness,  and  left 
all  beauty  behind  as  it  flowed  from  Florence,  and 
was  here  only  a  swiftly  flowing  mass  of  muddy 
waters. 

After  having  taken  possession  of  their  rooms 
in  one  of  the  hotels  which  look  out  upon  the 
river,  and  having  lunched  in  the  chilly  dining 
room,  which  they  found  after  wandering  through 
rooms  and  halls  filled  with  marble  statues  and 
bric-a-brac  set  forth  to  tempt  the  eyes  of  travel- 


ON    THE    WAY    TO    ROME. 

lers,  and  so  suggestive  of  the  quarries  in  which 
the  neighboring  mountains  are  rich,  they  started 
forth  for  that  famous  group  of  sacred  buildings 
which  gives  Pisa  its  present  fame. 

They  were  careful  to  enter  the  Cathedral  by  the 
richly  wrought  door  in  the  south  transept  (the  only 
old  one  left)  and,  passing  the  font  of  holy  water, 
above  which  stands  a  Madonna  and  Child  designed 
by  Michael  Angelo,  sat  down  beneath  Andrea  del 
Sarto's  St.  Agnes,  and  listened  to  Mr.  Sumner's 
description  of  the  famous  edifice. 

He  told  them  that  the  erection  of  this  building 
marked  the  dawn  of  mediaeval  Italian  art.  It  is 
in  the  old  basilica  style,  modified  by  the  dome 
over  the  middle  of  the  top.  Its  columns  are  Greek 
and  Roman,  and  were  captured  by  Pisa  in  war. 
Its  twelve  altars  are  attributed  to  Michael  Angelo 
(were  probably  designed  by  him),  and  the  mosaics 
in  the  dome  are  by  Cimabue.  They  wandered 
about  looking  at  the  old  pictures,  seeking  espe- 
cially those  by  Andrea  del  Sarto,  who  was  the  only 
artist  familiar  to  them,  whose  paintings  are  there. 
They  touched  and  set  swinging  the  bronze  lamp 
which  hangs  in  the  nave,  and  is  said  to  have  sug- 
gested to  Galileo  (who  was  born  in  Pisa),  his  first 
idea  of  the  pendulum. 

Then,  going  out,  they  climbed  the  famous 
Leaning  Tower,  and  visited  the  Baptistery,  where 


178  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

is  Niccolo  Pisano's  wonderful  sculptured  marble 
pulpit. 

Afterward  they  went  into  the  Campo  Santo, 
which  fascinated  them  by  its  quaintness,  so  un- 
like anything  they  had  ever  seen  before.  They 
thought  of  the  dead  reposing  in  the  holy  earth 
brought  from  Mount  Calvary ;  looked  at  the 
frescoes  painted  so  many  hundreds  of  years  ago  by 
Benozzo  Gozzoli,  pupil  of  Fra  Angelico;  at  the 
queer  interesting  TritimpJi  of  Death  and  Last 
Judgment,  so  long  attributed  to  Orcagna  and  now 
the  subject  of  much  dispute  among  critics ;  and 
then,  wearied  with  seeing  so  much,  they  went  into 
the  middle  of  the  enclosure  and  sat  on  the  flag- 
stones in  the  warm  sun  amid  the  lizards  and  early 
buttercups. 

The  next  afternoon  they  went  to  Siena,  and 
arrived  in  time  to  see,  from  their  hotel  windows, 
the  sunset  glory  as  it  irradiated  all  that  vast 
tract  of  country  that  stretches  so  grandly  on 
toward  Rome.  Here  they  were  to  spend  several 
days. 

The  young  travellers  were  just  beginning  to 
experience  the  charm  which  belongs  peculiarly 
to  journeying  in  Italy  —  that  of  finding,  one  after 
another,  these  delightful  old  cities,  each  in  its  own 
characteristic  setting  of  country,  of  history,  of 
legend  and  romance. 


ON    THE    WAY   TO    ROME.  179 

They  were  full  of  the  thrill  of  expected  emotion, 
—  that  most  delicious  of  all  sensations. 

And  they  received  no  disappointment  from  this 
old  "red  city."  They  saw  its  beautiful,  incom- 
parably beautiful,  Cathedral,  full  of  richness  of 
sculpture  and  color  in  morning,  noon,  and  evening 
light;  and  were  never  tired  of  admiring  every  part 
of  it,  from  its  graffito  and  mosaic  pavement  to  its 
vaulted  top  filled  with  arches  and  columns,  that 
reminded  them  of  walking  through  a  forest  aisle 
and  looking  up  through  the  interlaced  branches  of 
trees. 

They  visited  the  Cathedral  Library,  whose  walls 
are  covered  with  those  historical  paintings  by 
Pinturrichio,  the  little  deaf  Umbrian  painter,  in 
whose  design  Raphael  is  said  to  have  given  aid. 

But  Mr.  Sumner  wished  that  the  time  they 
could  give  to  the  study  of  paintings  be  spent 
particularly  among  the  works  of  the  old  Sienese 
masters.  So  they  went  again  and  again  to  the 
Accademia  delle  Belle  Arti  and  studied  those 
quaint,  half-Byzantine  works,  full  of  pathetic  grace, 
by  Guido  da  Siena,  by  Duccio,  Simone  Martini, 
Lippo  Memmi,  and  the  Lorenzetti  brothers. 

Here,  too,  they  found  paintings  by  II  Sodoma,  a 
High  Renaissance  artist,  which  pleased  them  more 
than  all  else.  The  Descent  into  Hades  t  where  is  the 
exquisitely  lovely  figure  of  Eve,  whose  mournful 


i8o  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

gaze  is  fixed  on  her  lost  son,  toward  whom  the 
Saviour  stoops  with  pity,  drew  them  again  and 
again  to  the  hall  where  the  worn  fresco  hangs ; 
and  after  they  had  found,  secluded  in  its  little 
cabinet,  that  fragment  which  represents  Clirist 
Bound  to  a  Column,  of  which  Paul  Bourget  has 
written  so  tenderly,  they  voted  this  painter  one 
of  the  most  interesting  they  had  yet  found. 

To  Bettina,  the  "  saint-lover,"  as  Malcom  had 
dubbed  her,  the  city  gained  an  added  interest  from 
having  been  the  home  of  St.  Catherine  of  Siena, 
and  the  others  shared  in  some  degree  her  enthusi- 
asm. They  made  a  pilgrimage  to  the  house  of 
St.  Catherine,  and  all  the  relics  contained  therein 
were  genuinely  important  to  them,  for,  as  Betty 
averred  again  and  again  :  — 

"  You  know  she  did  live  right  here  in  Siena,  so 
it  must  be  true  that  this  is  her  house  and  that 
these  things  were  really  hers." 

They  admired  Palazzo  Publico  within  and  with- 
out ;  chiefly  from  without,  for  they  could  never 
walk  from  the  Cathedral  to  their  hotel  without 
pausing  for  a  time  to  look  down  into  the  pictur- 
esque Piazza  del  Campo  where  it  stands,  and 
admire  its  lofty  walls,  so  mediaeval  in  character, 
with  battlemented  cornice  and  ogive  windows. 

They  walked  down  the  narrow  streets  and  then 
climbed  them.  They  drove  all  over  the  city 


ON   THE   WAY   TO   ROME.  l8l 

within  its  brown  walls ;  and  outside  on  the  road 
that  skirts  them  and  affords  such  lovely  views  of 
the  valley  and  Tuscan  hills.  They  were  sincerely 
sorry  when  at  last  the  day  came  on  which  they 
must  leave  it  and  continue  on  their  way. 

"Why  are  we  going  to  Orvieto,  uncle?"  asked 
Malcom,  as  they  were  waiting  at  Chiusi  for  their 
connection  with  the  train  from  Florence  to  Orvieto. 

"  For  several  reasons,  Malcom.  In  the  first 
place,  it  is  one  of  the  best  preserved  of  the  ancient 
cities  of  Italy.  So  long  ago  as  the  eighth  century 
it  was  called  urbs  -vetus  (old  city)  and  its  modern 
name  is  derived  from  that.  Enclosed  by  its  mas- 
sive walls,  it  still  stands  on  the  summit  of  its 
rocky  hill,  which  was  called  urbibentiim  by  the 
old  historian,  Procopius.  It  is  comparatively  sel- 
dom visited  by  the  ordinary  tourist,  and  is  thor- 
oughly unique  and  interesting.  In  the  second 
place,  in  its  Cathedral  are  most  valuable  exam- 
ples of  Fra  Angelico's,  Benozzo  Gozzoli's,  and 
Signorelli's  paintings ;  and,  in  the  third  place, 
I  love  the  little  old  city,  and  never  can  go  to  or 
from  Rome  without  spending  at  least  a  few  hours 
there  if  it  is  possible  for  me  to  do  so.  Are  these 
weighty  enough  reasons  ? "  and  Mr.  Sumner  drew 
his  arm  affectionately  into  that  of  the  tall  young 
man  he  loved  so  well.  "But  here  comes  our 
train." 


1 82  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

"  This  cable-tram  does  not  look  very  ancient," 
said  Malcom,  when  a  half  hour  later  they  stood  on 
the  platform  of  the  little  railway  station  at  Orvieto 
and  looked  up  at  the  hillside. 

"  No ;  its  only  merit  is  that  it  takes  us  up 
quickly,"  replied  his  mother,  as  they  reached  the 
waiting  car.  "  All  try  if  you  can  to  get  seats  with 
back  to  the  hill,  so  that  you  will  command  the 
view  of  this  beautiful  valley  as  we  rise." 

The  city  did  indeed  look  foreign  as  they  entered 
its  wall,  left  the  cable-car,  and,  in  a  hotel  omnibus, 
rattled  through  the  streets,  so  narrow  that  it  is 
barely  possible  for  two  carriages  to  pass  each 
other. 

"  Is  everybody  old  here,  do  you  suppose  ? " 
slyly  whispered  Bettina  to  Barbara,  as  they  were 
taken  in  charge  by  a  very  old  woman,  who  led  the 
way  to  the  rooms  already  engaged  for  the  party. 
"  I  should  be  afraid  to  come  here  all  alone  ;  every- 
thing is  so  strange. 

"  Oh  !  but  how  pleasant,"  she  added,  brightly, 
as  they  were  shown  into  a  sweet,  clean  room, 
whose  windows  opened  upon  a  small  garden  filled 
with  rose-bushes,  and  whose  two  little  beds  were 
snowy  white.  "  How  delightful  to  be  here  a  little 
later,  when  these  roses  will  be  in  bloom !  " 

The  brown  withered  face  of  the  old  chamber- 
maid beamed  upon  the  two  young  girls,  and 


ON    THE   WAY   TO    ROME.  183 

showed  her  satisfaction  at  their  evident  delight, 
and  when  she  found  that  they  could  understand 
and  speak  a  little  of  her  own  language,  her  heart 
was  indeed  won,  and  she  bustled  about  seeking 
whatever  she  could  do  to  add  to  their  comfort,  just 
for  the  pleasure  of  being  near  them. 

"  It  must  be  a  delightful  place  to  visit,"  said 
Barbara,  when  finally  they  were  alone,  "but  I 
should  not  like  to  have  to  live  here  for  any 
length  of  time,  I  know;  so  gray,  so  old,  so  deso- 
late it  all  seemed  on  our  way  through  the  streets," 
and  a  slight  shiver  ran  through  her  at  the 
remembrance. 

Soon  they  went  to  the  Cathedral;  admired  its 
facade,  decorated  with  mosaics  in  softly  brilliant 
colors  until  it  looked  like  a  great  opal,  shining 
against  the  deep  blue  sky ;  entered  it  and  saw 
Fra  Angelico's  grand  Christ,  and  calm,  holy  saints 
and  angels ;  and,  close  to  them  (the  most  striking 
contrast  presented  in  art),  Luca  Signorelli's  wild, 
struggling,  muscular  figures. 

They  went  into  the  photograph  store  on  the 
corner  for  photographs,  and  to  the  little  antique 
shop  opposite,  where  they  bought  quaint  Etruscan 
ornaments  to  take  away  as  souvenirs,  —  and  then 
gave  themselves  to  exploring  the  city;  after  which 
they  all  confessed  to  having  fallen  somewhat 
"under  the  spell  of  its  charm. 


184  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

The  next  afternoon  found  them  on  their  way, 
around  Lake  Trasimeno,  to  Perugia. 

Little  had  been  said  about  this  city,  for  their 
conversation  had  been  engaged  with  those  they 
had  left  behind.  Malcom,  only,  had  been  looking 
up  its  history  in  his  guide-book,  and  was  interested 
to  see  the  place  that  had  been  bold  enough  to  set 
itself  up  even  against  Rome,  and  so  had  earned 
the  title  "audacious"  inscribed  on  its  citadel  by 
one  of  the  Popes. 

"  Magnificent  in  situation ! "  he  exclaimed,  and 
his  eager  eyes  allowed  nothing  to  escape  them, 
as  their  omnibus  slowly  climbed  the  high  hill, 
disclosing  wide  and  ever  widening  views  of  the 
valley  of  the  Tiber. 

"  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Sumner,  who  was  enjoying 
the  delighted  surprise  of  his  party,  "  that  Perugia 
is  the  most  princely  city  in  regard  to  position  in 
all  Italy.  It  is  perched  up  here  on  the  summit  as 
an  eagle  on  his  aeried  crag,  and  seems  to  chal- 
lenge with  proud  defiance  these  lower  cities,  that, 
though  each  on  its  own  hill-top,  look  as  if  slum- 
bering in  the  valley  below. 

When  a  little  later  they  were  ushered  into  the 
brilliantly  lighted  dining-room,  which  was  filled 
almost  to  overflowing  with  a  gayly  dressed  and 
chattering  crowd  of  guests,  most  of  whom  spoke 
the  English  language,  all  the  way  thither  seemed 


ON    THE   WAY    TO    ROME.  185 

as  a  dream.  Only  the  voluminous  head-dresses 
of  the  English  matrons,  and  the  composite  speech 
of  the  waiters,  told  them  surely  that  they  were 
in  a  foreign  land. 

The  next  day,  after  a  drive  through  the  city, 
whose  different  quarters  present  some  of  the  most 
interesting  contrasts  to  be  found  in  all  Italy,  Mr. 
Sumner  took  them  to  the  Pinacoteca,  or  picture- 
gallery,  and  before  looking  at  the  pictures,  told 
them  in  a  few  words  about  the  early  Umbrian 
school  of  painting. 

"  It  grew  out  of  the  early  Florentine,  and  is 
marked  by  many  of  the  same  characteristics.  It 
was,  however,  much  modified  by  the  Sienese 
painting.  It  has  less  strength,  as  it  has  also,  of 
course,  less  originality,  than  the  Florentine.  Its 
color,  on  the  other  hand,  is  better,  stronger,  and 
more  harmonious.  Its  works  possess  a  peculiar 
simplicity  and  devoutness  —  much  tranquillity  and 
gentleness  of  sentiment.  This  gallery  is  filled 
with  examples  of  its  masters'  painting.  It  just 
breathes  forth  their  spirit,  and  the  best  way  to 
absorb  it  would  be  to  come,  each  one  of  us  alone, 
and  give  ourselves  up  to  its  spell.  This  is  no 
place  for  criticism ;  only  for  feeling.  Study  par- 
ticularly whatever  you  find  of  Francesca's,  Peru- 
gino's  and  Bonfiglio's  work. 
•"You  all  know,"  he  continued,  "that  Perugino, 


1 86  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

who  lived  here  and  received  his  art  name  because 
he  did  so,  had  an  academy  of  painting,  and  that 
Raphael  was  for  some  years  one  of  his  pupils. 
Perugino's  influence  on  his  pupils  is  strikingly 
apparent  in  their  work.  Raphael's  early  paint- 
ing is  exactly  after  his  style.  In  Perugino's 
treatment  of  figures  you  will  find  a  mannerism, 
especially  in  the  way  his  heads  are  placed  on 
the  shoulders,  and  in  his  faces,  which  are  full 
of  sentiment,  the  wistful  eyes  often  being  cast 
upward,  but  sometimes  veiled  with  heavily  droop- 
ing lids. 

"  Look !  here  is  one  of  his  pictures.  The  oval 
faces  with  the  peculiarly  small  mouth  are  char- 
acteristic. You  will  most  readily  recognize  the 
work  of  this  master  after  you  have  become  a  bit 
familiar  with  it." 

He  also  took  them  to  the  Cambio,  once  a  Cham- 
ber of  Commerce,  to  see  Perugino's  frescoes,  which 
he  told  them  are  more  important  in  the  world  of 
art  than  are  his  easel  pictures.  Here  they  seated 
themselves  against  the  wall  wainscoted  with  rare 
wooden  sculptures,  on  the  same  bench  on  which 
all  lovers  of  the  old  painter's  art  who  have  visited 
Perugia  through  four  centuries  have  sat. 

And  here  they  studied  long  the  figures  of 
those  old  Roman  heroes  chosen  by  Perugino  to 
symbolize  the  virtues ;  figures  which  possess  a 


HEAD    OF   MADONNA.     FRC  M    MADONNA  AND  SAINTS. 


ON   THE    WAY    TO    ROME.  l8/ 

unique  and  irresistible  charm  because  of  their 
athletic  proportions  and  vigorous  action,  while 
their  faces  are  sweet,  womanish,  and  tender,  full 
of  the  pensive,  mystic  devotion  which  is  so  char- 
acteristic of  this  old  master  and  his  pupils. 


Chapter  XII. 
Robert  Sumner  Fights  a  Battle. 


So  nigh  is  grandeur  to  our  dust, 

So  near  is  God  to  man, 

When  duty  whispers  low,  Tbou  must, 

The  youth  re  flies,  I  can. 

—  EMERSON. 


SAN    FRANCESCO,    ASSISI. 


BARBARA  and  Bettina  had  not  realized  how 
near  they  were  to  Assisi  until  talk  of  driving 
thither  began.  In  their  study  of  art  St.  Francis 
had  figured  quite  largely,  because  the  scenes  in  his 
life  were  such  favorite  ones  for  representation  by 
the  old  masters.  They  had  read  all  about  him,  and 
so  were  thoroughly  prepared  for  the  proposed  trip 
to  the  home  of  this  most  important  old  saint. 

Bettina  was  in  a  fever  of  excitement.  Drive  to 
Assisi !  Drive  to  the  home  of  St.  Francis !  Go 
through  the  streets  in  which  he  played  when  a 
little  boy ;  walked  and  rode  when  a  prodigal  young 
man,  clad  in  the  richest,  most  extravagant  attire  he 
could  procure ;  from  which  he  went  out  in  his 
martial  array  ;  out  of  which  he  was  taken  prisoner 
when  Perugia  conquered  Assisi !  Drive,  perhaps, 
along  that  very  street  in  which,  after  his  conver- 

191 


I Q2  BARBARAS    HERITAGE. 

sion,  he  met  the  beggar  with  whom  he  changed 
clothes,  giving  him  the  rich  garments,  and  himself 
putting  on  the  tatters !  Or  along  which  his  dis- 
appointed father  followed  him  in  the  fury  of 
persecution,  after  he  had  given  his  life  to  poverty 
and  deeds  of  love  !  Look  upon  Mount  Subasio, 
whither  he  so  loved  to  retire  for  prayer !  See 
those  very  scenes  in  the  midst  of  which  he  and  his 
brethren  lived  six  or  seven  hundred  years  ago ! 
Could  it  be  possible  that  she  and  Barbara  were 
about  to  do  this  ?  It  was  almost  as  exciting  as 
when  the  first  thought  of  coming  to  Italy  had 
entered  their  minds. 

Finally  the  morning  came;  and  through  the 
winding  valley  they  drove  fifteen  miles,  until 
they  arrived  at  the  church  Santa  Maria  degli 
Angeli,  situated  on  a  plain  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill  on  which  sits  Assisi.  This  immense  church 
contains  the  Portiuncula,  —  that  little  chapel  so 
dear  to  St.  Francis,  in  which  he  founded  the 
Franciscan  order  of  monks,  and  in  which  he 
died,  —  and  is  a  veritable  Mecca,  to  which  pil- 
grimages are  made  from  all  parts  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  world. 

They  spent  some  time  here  in  visiting  the 
different  spots  of  interest  within  the  church ;  in 
going  out  to  see  the  tiny  garden,  where  grow  the 
thornless  rose-bushes  with  blood-stained  leaves, 


ROBERT    SUMMER    FIGHTS    A    BATTLE.  IQ3 

according  to  the  old  tradition,  at  which  they  were 
permitted  to  look  through  glass ;  and  in  listening 
to  the  rambling  talk  of  a  transparent-faced  old 
monk  in  brown,  Franciscan  garb,  who  waxed 
more  and  more  daring  as  he  watched  the  inter- 
ested faces  of  the  party,  until  his  tales  of  the 
patron  saint  grew  so  impossible  that  even  poor 
Bettina's  faith  was  sorely  tried,  and  Malcom  stole 
furtive  glances  at  her  to  see  how  she  bore  it  all. 

At  length  they  were  free,  and  went  on  up  the 
hill  to  the  city.  They  stopped  at  a  little  hotel 
whose  balcony  commanded  a  magnificent  view  of 
the  country,  lingered  a  while,  lunched,  and  then 
went  out  to  visit  the  great  double  church  of  San 
Francesco,  beneath  which  the  saint  is  buried, 
and  where  are  notable  frescoes  by  Cimabue  and 
Giotto. 

When  all  was  over,  and  they  were  taking  their 
carriages  for  Perugia,  Mr.  Sumner  said  to  his 
sister :  "  If  you  do  not  mind,  I  will  drive  in 
the  other  carriage,"  and  so  took  his  seat  with 
Barbara,  Bettina,  and  Malcom.  All  felt  a  little 
tired  and  were  silent  for  a  time,  each  busy  with 
his  own  thoughts.  Finally  Barbara  asked,  in  a 
thoughtful  tone :  — 

"  Did  you  notice  the  names  on  the  leaves  of 
the  travellers'  book  at  the  hotel  ?  I  glanced 
oyer  the  opposite  page  as  I  wrote  mine,  and 


194  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

among  the  addresses  were  Australia,  Germany, 
Norway,  England,  and  America." 

"I  noticed  it,"  answered  Mr.  Sumner,  "and 
of  course,  like  you,  could  not  help  asking  my- 
self the  question,  'Why  do  travellers  from  all 
parts  of  the  Christian  world  come  to  this  small 
city,  which  is  so  utterly  unimportant  as  the 
world  reckons  importance  ? ;  Simply  because  a 
good  man  was  once  born,  lived,  and  died  here. 
Surely  one  renews  one's  faith  in  God  and  hu- 
manity as  one  thinks  of  this  fact." 

"  May  not  the  paintings  alone  draw  some 
visitors  ? "  asked  Malcom,  after  thinking  for  a 
few  moments  of  his  uncle's  words. 

"  But  even  then  we  must  allow  that  the  paint- 
ings would  not  have  been  here  if  it  were  not 
for  the  saint ;  so  it  really  amounts  to  about  the 
same  thing,  doesn't  it?"  answered  his  uncle, 
smiling. 

"What  a  pity  it  is,"  said  Bettina,  thinking  of 
the  garrulous  old  monk  who  so  evidently  desired 
to  earn  his  lira,  "that  people  will  add  so  much 
that  is  imaginary  when  there  is  enough  that  is 
true.  It  is  a  shame  to  so  exaggerate  stories  of 
St.  Francis's  life  as  to  make  them  seem  almost 
ridiculous." 

When  their  drive  was  nearly  over  and  they 
were  watching  the  ever  nearing  Perugia,  Malcom 


ROBERT    SUMNER    FIGHTS    A    BATTLE.  195 

turned  toward  Mr.  Sumner  with  a  serious  look 
and  said :  — 

"Uncle  Robert,  these  Italian  cities  are  won- 
derfully interesting,  and  I  think  I  have  never 
enjoyed  anything  in  my  life  so  much  as  the 
fortnight  since  we  left  Florence  and,  of  course, 
the  time  we  were  there ;  and  yet  I  would  not 
for  worlds  live  here  among  them." 

Then,  as  Mr.  Sumner  looked  inquiringly  at 
him,  he  continued,  with  an  excited  flush  :  "  What 
is  there  in  them  that  a  man  could  get  hold  of 
to  help,  anyway  ?  It  seems  to  me  as  if  their 
lives  have  been  all  lived,  as  if  they  now  are 
dead ;  and  how  can  any  new  life  be  put  into 
them  ?  Look  at  these  villages  we  have  been 
passing  through !  What  power  can  make  the 
people  wish  for  anything  better  than  they  have, 
can  wake  them  up  to  make  more  of  the  children 
than  the  parents  are  ?  In  the  present  condition 
of  people  and  government,  how  can  any  man, 
for  instance,  such  as  you  are,  really  accomplish 
anything  ?  How  would  one  go  about  it  ?  Now 
at  home,  you  know,  if  one  is  only  man  enough, 
he  can  have  so  much  influence  to  make  things 
better ;  can  give  children  better  schools ;  can  give 
people  books;  can  help  lift  the  low-down  into 
a  higher  place.  He  can  help  in  making  all 
sorts  of  reforms,  can  be  a  leader  in  such  things. 


196  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

He  can  go  into  politics  and  try  to  make  them 
cleaner." 

Malcom  had  spoken  out  of  his  heart,  and,  in 
sympathy  with  him,  Bettina  squeezed  Barbara's 
hand  under  the  cover. 

Barbara,  however,  was  looking  at  Mr.  Sumner, 
and  her  quick  eyes  had  noted  the  sensitive  change 
of  expression  in  his ;  the  startled  look  of  surprise 
that  first  leaped  into  them,  and  the  steady  pain 
that  followed.  An  involuntary  glance  at  Barbara 
told  him  that  she  recognized  his  pain  and  longed 
to  say  something  to  help,  but  she  could  not ;  and 
it  was  Bettina  who,  after  a  moment's  silence,  said 
gently :  — 

"  I  am  sure  you  are  right,  Malcom,  but  I  think 
I  could  live  all  my  life  in  this  dear,  beautiful  Italy 
if  all  whom  I  love  were  with  me." 

Malcom  did  not  for  a  moment  think  that  his 
words  would  so  touch  his  uncle.  He  had  spoken 
from  his  own  stand-point,  with  thought  of  himself 
alone,  and  would  have  been  amazed  indeed  could 
he  have  known  what  a  steady  flame  within  his 
uncle's  mind  his  little  spark  had  kindled. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  Miss  Sherman  ? "  whis- 
pered Malcom  in  Margery's  ear,  as,  soon  after  din- 
ner, they  went  out  upon  the  terrace  close  to  their 
hotel  to  look  at  the  moon  rising  over  the  distant  hills. 


ROBERT    SUMNER    FIGHTS    A    BATTLE.  IQ? 

That  young  lady  had  disappeared  as  soon  as 
they  arose  from  the  table,  and  Mrs.  Douglas  had 
sent  Margery  to  her  room  to  tell  her  they  were 
going  out,  but  she  had  declined  to  accompany  them. 

"  Mother  thinks  she  is  not  feeling  quite  well," 
answered  Margery,  drawing  Malcom's  face  close 
to  her  own  ;  "  but  I  think  she  is  vexed  about 
something." 

The  truth  was  that  Miss  Sherman  was  as  nearly 
cross  as  she  dared  to  be.  Were  she  with  father 
and  sister,  instead  of  Mrs.  Douglas's  party,  why ! 
then  she  could  give  vent  to  her  feelings ;  and  what 
a  relief  it  would  be !  But  now  she  was  trying  her 
best  to  conquer  them,  or,  rather,  to  hide  them ;  but 
the  habit  of  a  lifetime  will  not  easily  give  way  on 
occasion. 

She  had  never  been  so  happy  in  her  life  as  since 
she  left  Florence  with  Mrs.  Douglas.  Wherever 
she  was,  wherever  she  went,  there  was  Mr.  Sumner, 
always  full  of  most  courteous  consideration  for 
her  as  his  sister's  guest.  She  had  been  so  happy 
that  her  sweetness  and  gentleness  were  irresistible, 
and  again  and  again  had  Mrs.  Douglas  congratu- 
lated herself  on  having  found  such  an  enjoyable 
companion ;  and  Mr.  Sumner  felt  grateful  to  her 
for  enhancing  his  sister's  happiness. 

But  to-day  a  change  had  taken  place  in  the  sat- 
isfactory tide  of  affairs.  Mr.  Sumner  had  been 


198  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

willing  —  more  than  that  —  had  chosen  to  drive  all 
the  way  back  from  Assisi  in  the  carriage  with 
Malcom,  Barbara,  and  Bettina,  and  it  was  all  she 
could  do  to  hide  her  chagrin  and  displeasure. 

Mrs.  Douglas,  with  her  usual  kind  judgment,  had 
decided  that  she  was  not  quite  well,  and  through- 
out the  drive  had  respected  her  evident  desire  for 
silence,  though  she  wondered  a  little  at  it. 

So  while  she  and  Margery  were  talking  about 
good  St.  Francis,  whose  heart  overflowed  with  love 
to  every  living  creature  —  mankind,  animals,  birds, 
and  flowers,  and  whose  whole  life  was  given  up  to 
their  service  —  Miss  Sherman  hugged  close  her 
little  jealous  grievance  and,  brooding  over  it,  gave 
no  thought  to  the  associations  of  the  place  they 
had  just  visited,  or  to  the  glorious  Italian  land- 
scape through  which  they  were  passing. 

It  was  riot  that  she  really  loved  Mr.  Sumner 
after  all;  that  is,  not  as  some  women  love,  for  it 
was  not  in  her  nature  to  do  so ;  but  she  did  wish  to 
become  his  wife ;  and  this  had  been  her  supreme 
thought  during  all  the.  months  since  she  had  met 
him.  Lately  the  memory  of  his  agitation  when 
Barbara  had  passed  him  that  evening  of  the  party 
had  disagreeably  haunted  her.  It  had  so  moved 
her  that,  truth  to  tell,  she  mourned  over  Howard's 
death  more  because  it  served  to  withdraw  an  obsta- 
cle between  these  two  than  for  any  other  reason. 


ROBERT    SUMNER    FIGHTS    A    BATTLE.  199 

That  mere  girl,  she  thought,  might  prove  a  formi- 
dable rival.  All  the  more  had  it  seemed  so,  since 
she  daily  saw  what  a  lovely,  noble  young  woman 
Barbara  really  was,  and  how  worthy  a  companion, 
even  for  Mr.  Sumner. 

So  every  moment  he  had  devoted  to  herself  or 
had  seemed  to  choose  to  be  in  her  own  society, 
was  an  especial  cause  for  self-congratulation.  But 
now  she  furtively  clinched  her  little  gloved  hand, 
and  the  lids  lowered  over  her  beautiful  eyes  as  they 
grew  hard,  and  she  did  not  wish  to  talk. 

"  I  wonder  what  is  the  matter  with  Lucile"  (for 
so  Miss  Sherman  had  begged  to  be  called),  Mrs. 
Douglas  queried  with  herself  that  night,  and 
sought  among  the  events  of  the  day  for  some 
possible  explanation.  "  She  seems  as  if  hurt  by 
something."  Suddenly  the  thought  flashed  into 
her  mind :  "  Can  it  be  because  Robert  left  us  to 
drive  with  the  others?  Can  it  be  that  she  has 
learned  to  care  for  him  so  much  as  that  ? "  And 
her  woman's  nature  overflowed  with  sympathy  at 
the  suggestion  of  such  an  interpretation. 

She  had  not  forgotten  the  desire  that  crept  into 
her  heart  that  morning  of  the  day  they  spent  at 
Fiesole ;  and  now  came  the  glad  belief  that  if  Miss 
Sherman  had  really  learned  to  love  her  brqther,  it 
must  be  that  in  time  he  would  feel  it,  and  yield  to 
the  sweetness  of  her  affection.  She  did  not  won- 


2OO  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

der  that  Lucile  should  love  her  darling  brother. 
Indeed,  how  could  any  woman  help  it  ?  And  she 
was  so  sensitive  that  she  might  acutely  feel  even 
such  a  little  thing  as  his  not  returning  in  the  car- 
riage with  them.  And  her  quietness  might  have 
been  caused  by  the  disappointment.  She  would 
be  herself  the  next  morning;  and  Mrs.  Douglas 
resolved  to  be  only  kinder  and  more  loving  than 
ever  to  her. 

And,  indeed,  the  next  morning  the  clouds  were 
all  dissipated,  and  Miss  Sherman  accepted,  with 
her  usual  sweet  smile,  her  portion  of  the  flowers 
that  Mr.  Sumner  brought  to  the  ladies  of  his  party. 

But  the  night  just  passed  would  never  be  for- 
gotten by  Robert  Sumner,  and  had  marked  a  vital 
change  in  his  life.  He  had  walked  the  floor  of  his 
moonlighted  room  until  the  early  morning  hours, 
his  thoughts  given  wholly  to  the  great  subject  Mal- 
com's  unconscious  words  had  opened  within  his 
mind.  Could  it  be  that  unconsciously,  through 
weakness,  he  had  yielded  himself  to  a  selfish 
course  of  living?  He,  whose  one  aim  and  ideal 
had  ever  been  to  give  his  life  and  its  opportunities 
for  the  benefit  of  others  ?  Had  his  view  been  a 
narrow  one,  when  he  had  so  longed  that  it  should 
be  wide  and  ever  wider  ? 

It  really  began  to  'seem  so  in  the  pitiless  glare  of 
the  light  now  thrown  upon  it.  He  had  surely  been 


ROBERT    SUMNER    FIGHTS    A    BATTLE.  2OI 

living  for  his  fellow-men.  He  had  been  striving  to 
make  his  own  culture  helpful  to  those  who  were 
less  happy  in  opportunity.  But  had  his  outlook 
been  far  and  wide  enough  ?  Had  not  the  personal 
sorrow  to  which  he  had  yielded  narrowed  to  his 
eyes  the  world,  — his  world,  in  which  God  had  put 
him  ?  Living  on  here  in  his  loved  Italy,  the  knowl- 
edge he  had  gained  was  being  sent  out  to  aid  those 
who  already  had  enough  to  enable  them  to  follow 
into  the  higher  paths  he  opened.  His  pictures, 
every  one  of  which  had  grown  out  of  his  own 
heart,  were  bearing  messages  to  those  whose  eyes 
were  opened  to  read.  But  what  of  the  great  mass 
of  humanity,  God's  humanity  too,  which  was  wait- 
ing for  some  one  to  awaken  the  very  first  desires 
for  culture  ?  For  some  one  to  open,  never  so  little, 
the  blind  eyes  ?  As  Malcom  had  said,  no  one,  no 
foreigner  certainly,  could  ever  reach  this  class  of 
people  in  Italy.  The  Church  and  the  heavy  hand 
of  past  centuries  of  ignorance  forbade  this. 

But  what  of  the  great  young  land  across  the 
waters  where  he  had  been  born  —  his  own  land  — 
the  refuge  of  the  poor  of  all  countries  of  the  earth, 
even  of  his  dear  Italy  ?  Surely  no  power  of  influ- 
ence there  could  be  forbidden.  The  good  that 
wealth,  culture,  and  art,  guided  by  a  heart  conse- 
crated to  humanity,  could  work  was  limitless  there. 

He  now  saw  that  his  personal  sorrow,  his  own 


2O2  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

selfish  grief,  had  come  between  all  this  and  him- 
self for  six  long  years.  In  deep  humiliation  he 
bowed  himself ;  and  looking  out  over  the  great 
plain  at  his  feet,  in  which  lay  Assisi  and  the  paths 
the  worn  feet  of  St.  Francis  and  his  brethren  had 
so  often  trod  six  centuries  ago,  now  all  gilded  with 
the  light  of  the  same  moon  that  was  shining  over 
the  distant  land  of  his  birth,  Robert  Sumner  pledged 
his  life  anew  to  God  and  his  fellow-man,  and  deter- 
mined that  his  old  grief  should  be  only  a  stepping- 
stone  to  a  larger  service ;  that,  keeping  Italy  and 
her  treasures  in  his  life  only  as  a  recreation  and  a 
source  of  inspiration,  he  would  hereafter  live  in  his 
own  America. 

In  the  peace  of  mind  that  came  after  the 
struggle,  which  was  no  slight  one,  he  slept  and 
dreamed,  —  dreamed  of  the  fair  girl  he  had  so 
loved  with  all  the  force  of  his  young,  strong 
nature,  and  whom  he  had  so  long  mourned.  She 
smiled  upon  him,  and  into  her  smile  came  the 
lovelight  he  had  seen  in  Barbara's  eyes  that 
birthday  evening,  and  then  she  changed  into 
Barbara,  and  he  awoke  with  the  thought  of  the 
wistful  look  she  had  given  him  the  afternoon 
before  when  Malcom's  words  wounded. 

In  the  morning,  as  he  gave  the  flowers  he  had 
chosen  expressly  for  her,  and  their  hands  for  a 
moment  met,  the  remembrance  of  this  dream 


ROBERT   SUMNER    FIGHTS    A    BATTLE.  2O3 

flashed  into  his  mind,  and  Barbara,  surprised,  felt 
a  momentary  lingering  of  his  touch. 

After  breakfast  Mrs.  Douglas  declared  her 
intention  to  spend  the  morning  in  writing  letters, 
and  advised  the  others  to  follow  her  example. 

"  You  know  we  go  to  Rome  to-morrow,  and  I 
prophesy  no  one  of  us  will  feel  like  sparing  much 
time  for  writing  during  our  first  days  there," 
she  said. 

Barbara  and  Bettina  spent  an  hour  on  their 
home-letter,  then  stole  away  alone,  and  finding 
a  secluded  spot  on  the  grand  terrace  in  front  of 
their  hotel,  sat  down,  with  the  great  valley  before 
them.  The  blue  sky,  so  clear  and  blue,  was  full 
of  great  white  puffs  of  cloud  whose  shadows  were 
most  fascinating  to  watch  as  they  danced  over 
the  plain,  —  now  hiding  a  distant  city,  —  now 
permitting  just  a  gleam  of  sunshine  to  gild  its 
topmost  towers;  and  anon  flitting,  leaving  that 
city-crowned  summit  all  in  light,  while  another 
was  enveloped  in  darkness. 

They  talked  long  together,  as  only  two  girls 
who  love  each  other  can  talk — of  the  sky  and 
the  land ;  of  the  impressions  daily  received ;  of 
the  thoughts  born  of  their  present  daily  experi- 
ences ;  of  the  home  friends  from  whom  they  were 
so  widely  separated.  Then  they  grew  silent,  giv- 
mg  themselves  to  the  dreamy  beauty  of  the  scene. 


2O4  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

By  and  by  Barbara,  her  eyes  dark  with  un- 
wonted feeling,  turned  impulsively  to  her  sister 
and  began  to  talk  of  that  which  had  been 
so  often  in  her  mind,  —  her  visit  to  Howard 
just  before  he  died.  Something  now  impelled 
her  to  tell  that  of  which  she  had  before  kept 
silence.  Her  voice  trembled  as  she  described 
the  scene  —  the  eyes  that  spoke  so  much  when 
the  voice  was  already  forever  silent  —  and  the 
wonderful  love  she  saw  in  them  when  she  gave 
the  tender  kiss. 

"  He  did  love  you,  did  he  not,  Bab  dear  ? "  said 
Bettina,  in  a  hushed,  awestricken  voice. 

"  Should  you  ever  have  loved  him  ? "  she  asked 
timidly  after  a  pause,  looking  at  her  sister  as  if  she 
were  invested  with  a  new,  strange  dignity,  that  in 
some  way  set  her  apart  and  hallowed  her. 

"  No,  dear,  I  am  sure  —  not  as  he  loved  me.  I 
wish,  oh  !  so  much,  that  I  could  have  made  him 
happy ;  but  since  I  know  that  could  never  have 
been,  do  you  know,  Betty,  I  am  beginning  to  be 
glad  that  he  has  gone  from  us ;  that  I  can  never 
give  him  any  more  pain.  I  never  before  dreamed 
what  it  may  be  to  love.  You  know,  Betty,  we  have 
never  had  time  to  think  of  such  things ;  we  have 
been  too  young.  Somehow,"  and  her  ringers 
caressed  the  roses  in  her  belt,  "things  seem  dif- 
ferent lately." 


Chapter  XIII. 
Cupid  Laughs. 


From  court  to  the  cottage, 

In  boivcr  and  in  ball, 
From  the  king  unto  the  beggar. 

Love  conquers  all. 
Though  ne'er  so  stout  and  lordly, 

Strive  or  do  "what  you  may, 
Yet  be  you  ne'er  so  hardy, 

Love  will  find  out  the  ivay. 

—  ANONYMOUS. 


RUINS    OF    FORUM,    ROME. 


MR.  SUMNER  and  Mrs.  Douglas  had  been 
most  fortunate  in  getting  possession  of  ex- 
tremely pleasant  apartments  close  to  the  Pincio. 
These  were  in  the  very  same  house  in  which  they 
had  lived  with  their  parents  twenty  years  before, 
when  Mrs.  Douglas  was  a  young  girl  of  eighteen 
years.  Here  she  had  first  met  and  learned  to  love 
young  Kenneth  Douglas,  so  that  most  tender  mem- 
ories clustered  about  the  place,  and  she  was  glad 
that  her  children  should  learn  to  know  it. 

She  soon  began  to  pick  up  the  old  threads  of  life. 
"Ah  me!  what  golden  threads  they  then  were," 
she  often  sighed.  Mr.  Sumner  was  at  home  here 
in  Rome  almost  as  much  as  in  Florence,  and  was 
busy  for  a  time  making  and  receiving  calls  from 
arthst  friends. 

Malcom  had  his  own  private  guide,  and  from 
207 


208  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

morning  until  night  they  hardly  saw  him.  He 
averred  himself  to  be  in  the  seventh  heaven,  and 
there  was  little  need  that  he  should  proclaim  the 
fact ;  it  was  evident  enough.  Julius  Caesar's  Com- 
mentaries, Cicero's  Orations,  Virgil,  all  Roman 
history  were  getting  illuminated  for  him  in  such  a 
way  that  they  would  never  grow  dim. 

But  at  first  the  others  felt  sensibly  the  change 
from  dear,  familiar  little  Florence.  Rome  is  so 
vast  in  her  history,  legend,  and  romance  !  The  city 
was  oppressive  at  near  sight. 

"  Shall  we  ever  really  know  anything  about  it 
all?"  asked  the  girls  of  each  other.  Even  Miss 
Sherman,  who  had  been  able  to  get  a  room  in  a 
small  hotel  close  by,  and  so  was  still  their  constant 
companion,  wore  a  little  troubled  air  now  and  then, 
as  if  there  were  something  she  ought  to  do  and  did 
not  know  how  to  set  about  it. 

They  drove  all  over  the  city ;  saw  its  ancient 
ruins  —  the  Colosseum,  the  Forums,  the  Palatine 
Hill,  the  Baths  of  Agrippa,  Caracalla,  Titus,  and 
Diocletian ;  visited  the  Pantheon,  Castle  of  St. 
Angelo,  and  many  of  the  most  important  churches. 
They  drove  outside  the  walls  on  the  Via  Appia, 
and  saw  all  the  many  interesting  things  by  the  way. 
They  sought  all  the  best  points  of  view  from  which 
they  could  look  out  over  the  great  city. 

One  afternoon  they  were  all  together  on  the  wide 


CUPID    LAUGHS.  2CX) 

piazza  in  front  of  San  Pietro  in  Montorio,  which 
commands  a  very  wide  outlook.  Here,  after  having 
studied  the  location  of  chief  points  of  interest,  they 
gave  themselves  up  to  the  delight  of  a  superb  sun- 
set view.  As  they  lingered  before  again  taking 
their  carriages,  Malcom  told  some  of  his  morning 
experiences,  and  Barbara  wistfully  said  :  — 

"  I  wonder  if  we  ought  not  to  begin  some  definite 
study  of  Roman  history  and  the  old  ruins.  Betty 
and  I  have  taken  some  books  from  the  library  in 
Piazza  di  Spagna,  and  are  reading  hard  an  hour  or 
two  every  day,  but  it  gives  me  a  restless  feeling  to 
know  that  there  is  so  much  all  about  me  that  I  do 
not  understand,"  and  she  looked  inquiringly  at  Mr. 
Sumner. 

"  Robert  and  I  have  talked  over  this  very  thing," 
replied  Mrs.  Douglas. 

"  Shall  I  tell  them  what  we  think  ? "  she  asked 
her  brother,  as  he  rather  abruptly  turned  away. 
On  his  assent  she  continued  :  — 

"  It  is  a  familiar  question,  since  I  very  plainly 
remember  hearing  my  father  and  mother  talk  of  it 
when  I  was  your  age,  and  Robert  was  but  a  lad. 
My  father  said  it  would  take  a  lifetime  of  patient 
study  to  learn  thoroughly  all  that  can  to-day  be 
learned  of  what  we  call  ancient  Rome  —  the  Rome 
of  the  Caesars ;  and  how  many  Romes  existed 
before  that,  of  which  we  can  know  nothing,  save 


2IO  BARBARAS    HERITAGE. 

through  legend  and  tradition  !  '  Now,  will  it  not 
be  best,'  he  asked,  '  that  we  read  all  we  can  of 
legend  and  the  chief  points  of  Roman  history  up 
to  the  present  time,  so  that  the  subject  of  Rome 
get  into  our  minds  and  hearts ;  and  then  try  to 
absorb  all  we  can  of  the  spirit  of  both  past  and 
present,  so  that  we  shall  know  Rome  even  though 
we  have  not  tried  to  find  out  all  about  her  ?  We 
cannot  accomplish  the  latter,  and  if  we  try  I  fear 
we  shall  miss  everything.'  My  mother  agreed  fully 
with  him.  And  so,  many  evenings  at  homes 
father  would  read  to  us  pathetic  legends  and  stir- 
ring tales  of  ancient  Roman  life ;  and  we  would 
often  go  and  sit  amidst  the  earth-covered  ruins  on 
the  Palatine.  Here,  children,  I  have  heard  your 
own  dear  father  more  than  once  repeat,  as  only  he 
could,  Byron's  graphic  lines  :  — 

"  Cypress  and  ivy,  weed  and  wall-flower  grown, 
Matted  and  mass'd  together ;  hillocks  heap'd 
On  what  were  chambers,  arch  crushed,  column  strewn 
In  fragments ;  choked-up  vaults,  and  frescoes  steepM 
In  subterranean  damps,  where  the  owl  peep'd 
Deeming  it  midnight. 

"  He  used  to  love  to  repeat  bits  of  poetry  every- 
where, just  as  Margery  does. 

"  We  climbed  the  Colosseum  walls  and  sat  there 
for  hours  dreaming  of  what  it  once  was  —  and  so 


CUPID    LAUGHS*  211 

we  went  all  over  the  city  —  until  I  really  think  I 
lived  in  ancient  Rome  a  part  of  the  time.  Often 
did  I  weep  over  the  tragic  fate  of  Roman  heroes 
and  matrons  as  I  was  in  the  places  sacred  to  their 
history,  so  deeply  impressed  was  I  by  the  reality 
of  the  past  life  of  Rome.  I  had  not  followed  the 
erudite  words  of  any  interpreter  of  the  ruins;  I 
had  not  learned  which  was  the  particular  pile  of 
stones  which  marks  the  location  of  the  palace  of 
Tiberius,  Augustus,  or  Septimius  Severus;  I  could 
not  even  give  name  to  all  the  various  ruins  of  the 
Roman  Forum,  but  old  Rome  was  very  real  to  me, 
and  has  been  ever  since. 

"  Now,"  she  continued,  as  she  glanced  at  the  in- 
terested faces  about  her,  "  we  are  here  for  a  very 
short  time,  and  it  does  seem  much  the  best  to  both 
Robert  and  me  that  you  should  try  to  get  Rome 
into  your  hearts  first.  Don't  be  one  bit  afraid  to 
grow  sentimental  over  her.  It  is  a  good  place  in 
which  to  give  ourselves  up  to  sentiment.  We  will 
take  a  guide  for  all  that  which  seems  necessary. 
This  one  afternoon,  however,  up  here,  when  you 
have  learned  the  location  of  the  seven  hills  and 
have  clearly  fixed  in  your  minds  the  relative  posi- 
tions of  the  most  important  ruins  and  old  buildings 
is,  in  my  opinion,  worth  more  than  would  be  many 
afternoons  spent  in  prowling  through  particular 
ruins;  that  is,  for  you.  Were  we  archaeological 


212  BARBARAS    HERITAGE. 

students,  it  would  of  course  be  a  far  different 
matter." 

"  And  we  will  at  once  resume  our  study  of  paint- 
ings," said  Mr.  Sumner,  drawing  nearer.  "To- 
morrow morning,  if  Malcom  has  no  engagement, 
we  will  go  to  the  Sistine  Chapel  to  see  Michael 
Angelo's  frescoes.  I  have  been  so  busy  until  now 
that  I  could  not  get  the  time  I  wished  for  it." 

The  next  morning,  as  Barbara  and  Bettina  were 
getting  ready  for  the  drive  according  to  Mr.  Sum- 
ner's  appointment,  Bettina,  who  was  vigorously 
brushing  her  brown  suit,  heard  a  sigh  from  her 
sister,  and  looking  up  saw  her  ruefully  examining 
her  own  skirt. 

"  Rather  the  worse  for  wear,  aren't  they,  Bar- 
bara mia  ?" 

"  Indeed,  they  are.  I  didn't  notice  it,  though, 
until  we  came  here  into  this  bright  Rome.  We 
seem  to  have  come  all  at  once  into  spring  sunshine 
and  the  atmosphere  of  new  clothes ;  and,  Betty,  I 
believe  I  do  feel  shabby.  I  know  you  have  been 
thinking  the  same  thing,  too ;  for  everybody  else 
seems  to  have  new  spring  dresses,  and  they  are  so 
fresh  and  pretty  that  ours  look  doubly  worse.  Oh, 
dear !  "  and  she  sighed  again. 

Then,  catching  sight  of  her  sister's  downcast 
face,  Barbara,  in  a  moment,  after  her  usual  fashion, 
rose  above  her  annoyance  and  cried  :  — • 


CUPID    LAUGHS.  213 

"For  shame,  Barbara  Burnett!  to  think  that 
you  are  in  Rome,  the  Eternal  City !  that  you  are 
dressing  to  go  to  the  Sistine  Chapel  to  look  at 
Michael  Angelo's  frescoes !  and  do  you  dare  to 
waste  a  thought  on  the  gown  you  are  to  wear! 
Oh,  Betty !  you  are  ashamed  of  me,  too,  I  know. 
— There,  you  dear  old  brown  suit!  Forgive  me, 
and  I  never  will  do  such  a  mean  thing  again.  To 
think  of  all  the  lovely  places  I  have  been  in  with 
you,  and  now  that  I  should  like  to  cheat  you  out 
of  seeing  Michael  Angelo's  frescoes! "  and  she  ad- 
justed the  last  button  with  such  a  comical,  half- 
disgusted  expression  on  her  face  that  Betty  burst 
into  a  merry  laugh. 

When  the  two  girls  came  down  stairs  and 
stepped  out  upon  the  sidewalk  beside  which  the 
carriages  were  waiting,  their  radiant  faces  gave  not 
the  slightest  hint  that  any  annoyance  had  ever 
lurked  there ;  and  no  one,  looking  into  them, 
would  ever  give  a  thought  to  the  worn  brown 
dresses.  No  one?  not  many,  at  least.  Perhaps 
Miss  Sherman,  looking  so  dainty  in  her  own  fresh 
attire,  did.  Anyway,  as  Mr.  Sumner  handed  her 
into  one  of  the  carriages,  and  himself  springing  in, 
took  a  seat  beside  her,  she  shot  a  triumphant 
glance  at  Barbara,  who  was  seating  herself  in  the 
oj'.ier  carriage  with  Bettina  and  Malcom.  Mrs. 
Douglas  and  Margery  had  gone  out  on  some 


214  BARBARAS    HERITAGE. 

morning  errand  and  would  follow  them  presently, 
so  Miss  Sherman  was  alone  with  Mr.  Sumner. 

Robert  Sumner  was  waging  quite  a  battle  with 
himself  during  these  days.  Ever  since  that  night 
at  Perugia,  he  had  found  to  his  utter  dismay  that 
he  could  not  put  Barbara  out  of  his  thoughts.  In- 
deed, ever  after  the  evening  of  the  birthday  party 
she  had  assumed  to  him  a  distinct  individuality. 
It  seemed  as  if  he  had  received  a  revelation  of 
what  she  was  to  become.  Every  now  and  then  as 
he  saw  her  at  home,  the  vision  of  beautiful  woman- 
hood that  had  passed  before  him  that  evening 
would  flash  into  his  mind,  and  the  thought  would 
come  that  sometime,  somewhere,  she  would  find 
him  into  whose  eyes  could  shine  from  her  own  that 
glorious  lovelight  that  he  had  for  an  instant  sur- 
prised in  them. 

It  had  not  seemed  to  him  that  he  then  saw  the 
present  Barbara,  but  that  which  she  was  to  be ; 
and  this  future  Barbara  had  no  special  connection 
with  the  present  one,  save  to  awaken  an  interest 
that  caused  him  to  be  watchful  of  her.  He  had 
always  recognized  the  charm  of  her  personality,  — 
her  frank  enthusiasms,  and  her  rich  reserve;  the 
wide  outlook  and  wise  judgment  of  things  unusual 
in  one  so  young.  But  now  he  began  to  observe 
other  more  intimate  qualities,  —  the  wealth  of  af- 
fection bestowed  on  Bettina  and  the  distant  home ; 


CUPID    LAUGHS.  215 

her  tender  regard  to  the  feelings  of  those  about 
her;  her  quick  resentment  of  any  injustice;  her 
sturdy  self-reliance ;  her  sweet,  unspoiled,  unselfish 
nature ;  and  her  longing  for  knowledge  and  all  good 
gifts. 

Then  came  Howard's  death,  and  he  realized 
how  deeply  she  was  moved.  A  new  look  came 
often  into  her  eyes,  which  he  noted ;  a  new  tone 
into  her  voice,  which  he  heard.  And  yet  he  felt 
that  the  experience  had  not  touched  the  depths  of 
her  being. 

While  they  were  on  the  way  from  Florence  to 
Rome  he  had  rejoiced  every  time  he  heard  her 
voice  ringing  with  the  old  merry  tones,  which 
showed  that  she  had  for  the  moment  forgotten  all 
sad  thoughts.  When  he  was  ostensibly  talking  to 
all,  he  was  often  really  talking  only  to  Barbara, 
and  watching  the  expression  of  her  eyes  ;  and  he 
always  listened  to  catch  her  first  words  when  any 
new  experience  came  to  their  party.  He  was 
really  fast  getting  into  a  dangerous  condition,  this 
young  man  nearly  thirty  years  old,  but  was  as  un- 
conscious of  it  as  a  child. 

At  Perugia  came  the  night  struggle  caused  by 
Malcom's  words ;  the  dream,  and  the  morning 
meeting  with  Barbara.  When  his  hand  touched 
hers  as  he  put  into  them  the  roses,  he  felt  again 
for  an  instant  the  electric  thrill  that  ran  through 


216  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

him  on  the  birthday  night,  when  he  met  that 
wonderful  look  in  her  eyes.  It  brought  a  feeling 
of  possession,  as  if  it  were  the  hand  of  his  Mar- 
garet which  he  had  touched,  —  Margaret,  who  was 
so  soon  to  have  been  his  wife  when  death  claimed 
her. 

He  tried  to  account  for  it.  He  was  jealous  for 
the  beloved  dead  whose  words,  whose  ways,  whose 
face  had  reigned  supreme  over  his  heart  for  so 
many  years,  when  he  caught  himself  dwelling  on 
Barbara's  words,  recalling  her  tricks  of  tone,  her 
individual  ways. 

He  set  himself  resolutely  to  the  task  of  over- 
coming this  singular  tendency  of  his  thought ;  and 
oh  !  how  the  little  blind  (but  all-seeing)  god  of 
love  had  been  laughing  at  Robert  Sumner  all 
through  the  days  since  they  reached  Rome. 

Instead  of  driving  and  walking  about  with  the 
others,  he  had  zealously  set  himself  the  task  of 
calling  at  the  studios  of  all  his  artist  friends ;  had 
visited  exhibitions ;  had  gone  hither  and  thither  by 
himself ;  and  yet  every  time  had  hastened  home, 
though  he  would  not  admit  it  to  his  own  conscious- 
ness, in  order  that  he  might  know  where  Barbara 
was,  what  she  was  doing,  and  how  she  was  feeling. 
He  had  busied  himself  in  fitting  up  a  sky-lighted 
room  for  a  studio,  where  he  resolved  to  spend 
many  morning  hours,  forgetting  all  else  save  his 


CUPID    LAUGHS.  217 

beloved  occupation  ;  and  the  very  first  time  he  sat 
before  his  easel  a  sketch  of  Barbara's  face  grew 
out  of  the  canvas.  The  harder  he  tried  to  put  her 
from  his  thoughts,  the  less  could  he  do  so,  and  he 
grew  restless  and  unhappy. 

Another  cause  of  troubled,  agitated  feeling  was 
his  decision  to  return  to  America  and  there  make 
his  home.  In  this  he  had  not  faltered,  but  it 
oppressed  him.  He  loved  this  Italy,  with  her  soft 
skies,  her  fair,  smiling  vineyards  and  bold  moun- 
tain backgrounds,  her  romantic  legends,  and,  above 
all,  her  art-treasures.  He  had  taken  her  as  his 
foster-mother.  Her  atmosphere  stimulated  him  to 
work  in  those  directions  his  heart  loved  best.  How 
would  it  be  when  he  should  be  back  again  in  his 
native  land  ?  He  had  fought  his  battle  ;  duty  had 
told  him  to  go  there  ;  and  when  she  had  sounded 
the  call,  there  could  be  no  retreat  for  him.  But 
love  and  longing  and  memory  and  fear  all  harassed 
him.  He  had  as  yet  said  nothing  of  this  to  his 
sister,  but  it  weighed  on  him  continually.  Taken 
all  in  all,  Robert  Sumner's  life,  which  had  been 
keyed  to  so  even  a  pitch,  and  to  which  all  discord 
had  been  a  stranger  for  so  many  years,  was  sadly 
jarred  and  out  of  tune. 

Of  course  Mrs.  Douglas's  keen  sisterly  eyes 
cpuld  not  be  blind  to  the  fact  that  something 
was  troubling  her  brother.  And  it  was  such  an 


218  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

unusual  thing  to  see  signs  of  so  prolonged  dis- 
turbance in  him  that  she  became  anxious  to  know 
the  cause.  Still  she  could  not  speak  of  it  first. 
Intimate  as  they  were,  the  inner  feelings  of  each 
were  very  sacred  to  the  other,  and  she  must  wait 
until  he  should  choose  to  reveal  all  to  her. 

She  well  knew  that  his  heart  had  been  wholly 
consecrated  to  the  only  love  it  had  heretofore 
known,  and  the  query  had  often  arisen  in  her 
mind  whether  the  approach  of  another  affection 
might  not  in  the  first  place  work  some  unhappi- 
ness.  That  he  could  ever  love  again  as  he  had 
loved  Margaret  she  did  not  for  a  moment  believe. 
She  well  knew,  however,  that  the  happiness  of 
any  woman  who  might  give  her  life  into  her 
brother's  keeping  was  safe,  and  her  wish  for  him 
was  that  he  might  be  so  drawn  toward  some  lov- 
ing woman  that  he  might  desire  to  make  her  his 
wife,  and  so  be  blessed  with  family  life  and  love ; 
for  the  thought  that  he  might  live  lonely,  without 
family  ties,  was  inexpressibly  sad  to  her  loving 
heart. 

We  have  seen  how  the  coming  of  Miss  Sherman 
into  their  lives  roused  these  hopes  afresh ;  and 
she  now  wondered  if  his  evident  unrest  might  be 
caused  by  the  first  suggestion  of  the  thought  of 
asking  her  to  become  his  wife.  It  was  evident 
that  he  admired  her  and  enjoyed  her  society ; 


CUPID    LAUGHS.  2IQ 

and,  so-  far  as  Miss  Sherman's  feelings  were  con- 
cerned, she  felt  no  doubt.  Indeed,  she  sometimes 
shrank  a  bit  from  the  free  display  of  her  fondness 
for  his  company,  and  hoped  that  Malcom  and  the 
girls  might  not  notice  it.  She  easily  excused  it, 
however,  to  herself,  although  the  closer  intimacy 
of  daily  intercourse  was  revealing,  little  by  little, 
flaws  in  the  character  she  had  thought  so  fair. 

How  utterly  mistaken  was  Mrs.  Douglas !  and 
how  shocked  would  Lucile  Sherman  have  been 
this  very  morning  could  she  have  known  how 
strong  a  longing  leaped  into  Robert  Sumner's 
heart  to  take  into  his  hungry  arms  that  graceful 
figure  in  worn  brown  suit,  with  brave,  smiling 
young  face  and  steadfast  eyes,  put  her  into  his 
carriage,  and  drive  away,  —  anywhere,  —  so  it  only 
were  away  and  away  ! 

Or,  how  stern  a  grip  he  imposed  on  himself  as 
he  took  his  seat  beside  her  dimpling,  chattering 
self,  radiant  with  fresh  colors  and  graceful 
draperies. 

Or,  of  the  tumult  of  his  thoughts  as  they  drove 
along  through  the  narrow  streets,  across  the  yellow 
Tiber  and  up  to  the  stately  entrance  of  St.  Peter's. 


Chapter  XIV. 
A  Visit  to  the  Sistine  Chapel. 


Deep  love  lietb  under 
These  pictures  of  time  ; 

They  fade  in  the  light  of 
Their  meaning  sublime. 

—  EMERSON. 


ST.    PETER'S    AND    CASTLE    OF    ST.    ANQELO,    ROME. 


THEY  first  passed  into  the  great  Cathedral  in 
order  to  give  a  look  at  that  most  beautiful  of 
all  Michael  Angelo's  sculptures — Mary  holding 
on  her  knees  her  dead  Son.  Barbara  and  Bettina 
had  studied  it  on  a  former  visit  to  St.  Peter's 
when  Mr.  Sumner  was  not  with  them.  Now  he 
asked  them  to  note  the  evident  weight  of  the  dead 
Christ,  —  with  every  muscle  relaxed,  —  a  triumph 
of  the  sculptor's  art;  and,  especially,  the  im- 
personal face  of  the  mother  ;  a  face  that  is  simply 
the  embodiment  of  her  feeling,  and  wholly  apart 
from  the  ordinary  human  ! 

"  This  is  a  special  characteristic  of  Michael 
Angelo's  faces,"  he  said,  "and  denotes  the  high 
order  of  his  thought.  In  it,  he  approached  more 
closely  the  conceptions  of  the  ancient  Greek  mas- 
ters than  has  any  other  modern  artist  —  and  now 

223 


224  BARBARAS   HERITAGE. 

we  will  go  to  the  Sistine  Chapel,"  he  added,  after 
a  little  time. 

They  went  out  to  the  Vatican  entrance,  passed 
the  almost  historic  Swiss  Guards,  and  climbed  the 
stairs  with  quite  the  emotion  that  they  were  about 
to  visit  some  sacred  shrine,  so  much  had  they  read 
and  so  deeply  had  they  thought  about  the  fres- 
coes they  were  about  to  see. 

For  some  time  after  they  entered  the  Chapel 
Mr.  Sumner  said  nothing.  The  custodian,  accord- 
ing to  custom,  provided  them  with  mirrors;  and 
each  one  passed  slowly  along  beneath  the  world- 
famous  ceiling  paintings,  catching  the  reflection  of 
fragment  after  fragment,  figure  after  figure.  Soon 
the  mirrors  were  cast  aside,  and  the  opera-glasses 
Mr.  Sumner  had  advised  them  to  bring  were 
brought  into  use,  —  they  were  no  longer  content 
to  study  simply  a  reflected  image. 

At  last  necks  and  eyes  grew  tired,  and  when 
Mr.  Sumner  saw  this,  he  asked  all  to  sit  for  a  time 
on  one  of  the  benches,  in  a  corner  apart  from 
others  who  were  there. 

"I  know  just  how  you  feel,"  he  said.  "You 
are  disappointed.  The  frescoes  are  so  far  above 
our  heads  ;  their  colors  are  dull ;  they  are  disfigured 
by  seams  ;  there  are  so  many  subjects  that  you  are 
confused  and  weary.  You  are  already  striving  to 
retain  their  interest  and  importance  by  connecting 


A    VISIT   TO   THE    SISTINE    CHAPEL.  22$ 

them  with  the  personality  of  their  creator,  and  are 
imagining  Michael  Angelo  swung  up  there  under- 
neath the  vault,  above  his  scaffoldings,  laboring  by 
day  and  by  night  during  four  years.  You  are  be- 
ginning in  the  wrong  place  to  rightly  comprehend 
the  work. 

"  It  is  the  magnitude  of  Michael  Angelo's  con- 
ceptions that  puts  him  among  the  very  first  of 
painters  ;  and  it  is  the  conception  of  these  frescoes 
that  makes  them  the  most  notable  paintings  in  the 
world.  We  must  dwell  on  this  for  a  moment. 
When  the  work  was  begun  it  was  the  artist's  in- 
tention to  paint  on  the  end  wall,  opposite  the 
altar,  the  Fall  of  Lucifer,  the  enemy  of  man,  who 
caused  sin  to  befall  him.  This  was  never  accom- 
plished. Then  he  designed  to  cover  the  ceiling 
(as  he  did)  with  the  chief  Biblical  scenes  of  the 
world's  history  that  are  connected  with  man's 
creation  and  fall  —  to  picture  all  these  as  looking 
directly  forward  to  Christ's  coming  and  man's  re- 
demption ;  and  then  to  complete  the  series,  as  he  af- 
terward did,  by  painting  this  great  Last  Judgment 
over  the  altar.  Is  it  not  a  stupendous  conception  ? 

"  Let  your  eyes  run  along  the  ceiling  as  I  talk. 
God  is  represented  as  a  most  superbly  majestic 
Being  in  the  form  of  man.  He  separates  light 
from  darkness.  He  creates  the  sun  and  moon. 
He  commands  the  waters  to  bring  forth  all  kinds 


226  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

of  fish ;  the  earth  and  air  to  bring  forth  animal 
life.  He  creates  Adam :  nothing  more  grand  is 
there  in  the  whole  realm  of  art  than  this  magnifi- 
cent figure,  perfect  in  everything  save  the  recep- 
tion of  the  breath  of  eternal  life ;  his  eyes  are 
waiting  for  the  Divine  spark  that  will  leap  into 
them  when  God's  finger  shall  touch  his  own.  He 
creates  Eve.  In  Paradise  they  sin,  and  are  driven 
out  by  angels  with  flaming  swords.  Then,  a  sad 
sequence  to  the  parents'  weakness,  Cain  murders 
his  brother  Abel.  The  flood  comes  and  destroys 
all  their  descendants  save  Noah.  He  who  has 
withstood  evil  is  saved  with  his  family  in  the  ark, 
and  becomes  the  father  of  a  new  race." 

"And  do  the  pictures  at  the  corners,  and  the 
single  figures,  have  anything  to  do  with  this  sub- 
ject ?  "  asked  Malcom,  after  a  pause,  during  which 
all  were  busy  following  the  thoughts  awakened  by 
Mr.  Sumner's  words. 

"  Yes,  indeed  ;  nothing  here  is  foreign  to  the  one 
great  thought  of  the  painter.  The  four  irregular 
spaces  at  the  corners  are  filled  with  representa- 
tions of  important  deliverances  of  the  Jewish  peo- 
ple from  evil,  —  David  slaying  Goliath,  the  hanging 
of  Haman,  the  serpent  raised  in  the  wilderness, 
and  Judith  with  the  head  of  Holofernes.  The 
connection  in  Michael  Angelo's  mind  evidently 
was  that  God,  who  had  always  provided  a  help  for 


THE    DELPHIAN   SIBYL. 


A    VISIT   TO    THE   SISTINE    CHAPEL. 

His  people,  would  also  in   His  own  time  give  a 
Saviour  from  their  sins. 

"  Ranged  along  the  sides  you  see  seven  proph- 
ets and  five  sibyls :  the  prophets  foretold  Christ's 
coming  to  the  Jewish  world,  and  the  sibyls  sang  of 
it  to  the  Gentile  world. 

"  Nowhere,  however,  do  we  see  the  waiting  and 
the  longing  for  the  coming  of  the  Redeemer  more 
strikingly  shown  than  in  these  families,  — '  Gene- 
alogy of  the  Virgin '  they  are  commonly  called,  — 
that  are  painted  in  the  triangular  spaces  above  the 
windows.  Each  represents  a  father,  mother,  and 
little  child,  every  bit  of  whose  life  seems  utterly 
absorbed  with  just  the  idea  of  patient,  expectant 
waiting.  When  troubled  and  weary,  as  we  all  are 
sometimes,  you  know,  I  have  often  come  here  to 
gain  calmness  and  strength  by  looking  at  one  or 
two  of  these  groups ; "  and  Mr.  Sumner  paused, 
with  his  eyes  fixed  on  one  of  the  loveliest  of  the 
Holy  Families,  as  they  are  sometimes  called,  as 
if  he  would  now  drink  in  its  spirit  of  hopeful 
peace. 

"They  are  waiting,"  he  resumed  after  a  few 
minutes,  "  as  only  those  can  wait  who  confidently 
hope ;  and,  therefore,  there  is  really  nothing  in 
the  rendering  of  all  this  grand  conception  that 
more  clearly  points  to  the  Saviour's  coming  than 
do  these. 


228  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

"  I  think  this  part  of  the  frescoes  has  not  gener- 
ally received  the  attention  it  merits. 

"The  decorative  figures,  called  Athletes,  that 
you  see  seated  on  the  apparently  projecting  cor- 
nice, at  each  of  the  four  corners  of  the  smaller 
great  divisions  of  the  ceiling,  are  a  wholly  unique 
creation  of  the  artist,  and  serve  as  a  necessary 
separation  of  picture  from  picture.  They  are  with 
reason  greatly  admired  in  the  world  of  art. 

"These  many  figures,  each  possessing  distinct 
personality,  were  evolved  from  the  mind  of  the 
artist.  We  can  never  think  of  him  as  going  about 
through  the  city  streets  seeking  models  for  his 
work  as  did  Leonardo  da  Vinci.  His  figures  are  as 
purely  ideal  as  .the  creations  of  the  old  Greeks. 
Now  think  of  all  this.  Think  of  the  sphere  of  the 
old  master's  thought  during  these  four  years,  and 
you  will  not  wonder  that  he  could  not  sleep,  but, 
restless,  came  again  and  again  at  night  with  a 
candle  fixed  in  his  paper  helmet  to  light  the  work 
of  his  hands." 

All  were  silent.  Never  before  had  they  seen 
Mr.  Sumner  so  evidently  moved  by  his  subject; 
and  this  made  it  all  the  more  impressive.  They 
became  impatient  as  they  heard  a  little  group 
of  tourists  chatting  and  laughing  in  front  of  the 
Last  Judgment ;  and  when,  finally,  a  crowd  of 
travellers  with  a  noisy  guide  entered  the  Chapel, 


A    VISIT   TO   THE    SISTINE    CHAPEL.  22Q 

they  quickly  decided  to  go  away  and  to  come 
again  the  next  day. 

"Thank  you  so  much,  Mr.  Sumner,"  said  Bar- 
bara, in  a  low,  sympathetic  voice,  as  she  found  her- 
self beside  him  as  they  came  out  through  the  long 
corridor ;  "you  have  made  it  all  very  plain  to  us, — 
the  greatness,  the  skill,  the  patience  of  Michael 
Angelo.  It  is  as  if  he  had  been  inspired  by  God." 

"  And  why  not  ? "  was  the  gentle  reply,  as  he 
looked  down  into  the  upturned  face  so  full  of 
sweet  seriousness.  "  Do  you  believe  that  the  days 
of  inspiration  were  confined  to  past  ages  ?  God  is 
the  same  as  then,  and  close  at  hand  as  then ;  man 
is  the  same  and  with  the  same  needs. 

"  The  passive  master  lent  his  hand 
To  the  vast  soul  that  o'er  him  planned, 

wrote  our  Emerson,  showing  he  believed,  as  I 
firmly  do,  that  we  ourselves  now  work  God's  will, 
as  men  did  ages  ago ;  that  God  inspires  us  even  as 
he  did  the  old  Prophets." 

"  I  love  to  believe  so,"  said  Barbara,  simply. 

"And,"  continued  Mr.  Sumner,  "this  does  not 
lessen  any  man,  but  rather  makes  him  greater. 
Surely  God's  working  through  him  makes  him 
truly  grander  than  the  mere  work  itself  ever 
cculd." 

As  Malcom,  Barbara,  and  Bettina  drove  home- 


230  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

ward,  their  talk  took  a  serious  turn.  Malcom  was 
deeply  impressed  by  his  uncle's  last  words,  which 
he  had  overheard,  when  taken  into  connection 
with  all  the  preceding  thoughts  about  Michael 
Angelo.  Finally  he  asked  :  — 

"  And  then  what  can  a  man  do  ?  What  did 
Michael  Angelo,  himself,  do  if,  as  uncle  suggested, 
God  wrought  through  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  know  !  "  exclaimed  Bettina,  eagerly.  "  I 
have  heard  papa  and  mamma  talk  about  the  same 
thing  more  than  once,  only  of  course  Michael 
Angelo  was  not  their  subject.  In  the  first  place, 
he  must  have  realized  that  God  sent  him  into  the 
world  to  do  something,  and  also  that  He  had  not 
left  him  alone,  but  was  with  him.  Papa  always 
says  that  to  realize  this  begins  everything  that  is 
good." 

"  Yes,"  interrupted  Barbara.  "  He  did  feel  this. 
Don't  you  remember  that  he  wrote  in  one  of  his 
letters  that  we  were  reading  in  that  library  book  the 
other  day,  '  Make  no  intimacies  with  any  one  but 
the  Almighty  alone  '  ?  I  was  particularly  struck 
by  it,  because  just  before  I  read  it,  I  was  thinking 
what  a  lonely  man  he  was." 

"  Yes,  dear,  I  remember.  And  in  the  next 
place,"  continued  Bettina,  "papa  says  we  must  get 
ourselves  ready  to  do  as  great  work  as  is  possible, 
so  that  may  be  given  us.  If  we  do  not  prepare 


A    VISIT   TO   THE    SISTINE    CHAPEL.  231 

ourselves,  this  cannot  be.  You  know  how  Michael 
Angelo  studied  and  studied  there  in  Florence 
when  he  was  a  young  man ;  how  he  never  spared 
himself,  but  '  toiled  tremendously,'  as  some  one 
has  said.  And,  next,  we  must  do  in  the  very  best 
way  possible  even  the  smallest  thing  God  sees  fit 
to  give  us  to  do,  so  that  we  may  be  found  worthy 
to  do  greater  ones.  But,  Malcom,  you  know  all  this 
as  well  or  better  than  I  do,  and  I  know  you  are 
trying  to  do  these  things  too ! "  and  Bettina  blushed 
at  the  thought  that  she  had  been  preaching. 

But  Malcom  laughed,  and  looked  as  if  he  could 
listen  to  so  sweet  a  preacher  forever.  Never  were 
there  two  better  comrades  than  he  and  Bettina  had 
been  all  their  lives. 

Barbara  said  little.  There  was  a  far-away  look 
in  her  eyes  that  told  of  unexpressed  thought.  She 
was  pondering  that  which  the  morning  had  brought ; 
and  underneath  and  through  all  was  the  happy 
knowledge  that  her  hero  had  not  failed  her.  As 
usual  he  had  committed  new  gifts  into  her  keep- 
ing. And  the  gentle,  almost  intimate,  tones  of 
his  voice  when  he  was  talking  to  her,  —  she  felt 
it  was  to  herself  alone,  though  others  heard  — 
dwelt  like  music  in  her  ears. 

Mr.  Sumner  had  been  calmed  by  the  lesson  of 
Michael  Angelo's  frescoes,  as  he  had  often  been 
before.  In  the  presence  of  eternal  verities, — 


232  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

however  they  may  be  embodied  to  us,  —  our  own 
private  concerns  must  ever  grow  trivial.  What 
matters  a  little  unrest  or  disappointment,  or  even 
unhappiness,  when  our  thought  is  engaged  with 
untold  ages  of  God's  dealing  with  mankind  ? 
With  the  wondrous  fact  that  God  is  with  man,  — 
Immanuel,  —  forever  and  forever  more  ? 

That  evening  he  spent  with  the  family  in  their 
pretty  sitting  room,  and  in  answer  to  some  ques- 
tions about  the  Last  Judgment,  talked  for  a  few 
minutes  about  this  large  fresco,  which  occupied 
seven  years  of  Michael  Angelo's  life.  He  told 
them  that  although  it  is  not  perhaps  so  great 
as  a  work  of  art  as  the  ceiling  frescoes,  yet  be- 
cause of  its  conception,  of  the  number  of  figures 
introduced,  the  boldness  of  their  treatment,  and 
the  magnificence  of  their  drawing,  it  stands  un- 
rivalled. He  said  they  ought  to  study  it,  bit  by 
bit,  group  by  group,  after  having  once  learned  to 
understand  its  design. 

They  talked  of  the  grim  humor  of  the  artist  in 
giving  his  Belial  —  the  master  of  Hades  —  the  face 
of  the  master  of  ceremonies  of  the  chapel,  who  found 
so  much  fault  with  his  painting  of  nude  figures. 

"That  was  the  chief  feature  of  interest  in  the 
picture  to  that  group  of  young  people  who  stood 
so  long  before  it  this  morning,"  said  Mr.  Sumner. 
"  I  often  notice  that  the  portrait  of  grouty  old 


A    VISIT   TO   THE    SISTINE   CHAPEL.  233 

Biagio  attracts  more  attention  than  any  other  of 
the  nearly  three  hundred  figures  in  the  picture." 

"  I  don't  wonder,  for  I  want  to  see  it  too,"  said 
Malcom,  laughing. 

They  talked  also  of  Vittoria  Colonna,  at  whose 
home  and  in  whose  companionship  the  lonely 
master  found  all  his  happiness,  especially  during 
these  years  of  toil.  The  girls  were  much  inter- 
ested in  her,  and  Mr.  Sumner  said  he  would  take 
them  to  visit  the  Colonna  Palace,  where,  among 
other  pictures,  they  would  find  a  portrait  of  this 
noble  woman,  who  was  so  famous  in  the  literary 
life  of  her  time. 

One  morning,  not  long  after,  Malcom  brought  a 
handful  of  letters  from  the  banker's,  among  which 
several  fell  to  Barbara  and  Bettina. 

After  opening  two  or  three  of  his  own,  Mr. 
Sumner  looked  up  and  said :  — 

"  I  have  here  a  letter  dictated  by  Howard's 
grandmother.  It  contains  only  a  few  words, 
which  were  written  evidently  by  some  friend,  who 
adds  that  the  poor  old  lady  is  greatly  prostrated, 
and  it  is  feared  will  never  recover  from  the  shock 
of  his  death." 

"  Poor  woman !  I  wish  it  might  have  come  less 
suddenly  to  her,"  replied  Mrs.  Douglas,  in  a 
sympathetic  voice. 


234  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

After  a  little  silence,  during  which  all  were  busy 
with  their  letters,  a  low  cry  burst  from  Barbara's 
lips. 

Startled,  all  looked  up  to  find  her,  pale  as  death, 
staring  at  a  sheet  clutched  in  her  hand,  while  Bet- 
tina  had  sunk  on  her  knees  with  her  arms  about 
her  sister's  waist. 

"  What  is  it  ?  oh !  what  is  it  ? "  cried  they. 

Barbara  found  just  voice  enough  to  say :  "  No 
bad  news  from  home,"  and  then  appealingly  held 
her  letter  toward  Mr.  Sumner. 

"  Shall  I  read  it  ?  "  and  as  she  bowed  assent,  he 
hastily  scanned  the  contents. 

"  Howard  left  a  large  portion  of  his  money  to 
Barbara,"  he  said  briefly,  in  response  to  the  inquir- 
ing eyes,  and  handed  the  letter  back  to  the 
agitated  girl,  who,  with  Bettina,  sought  their  own 
room. 

Then  he  added,  striving  to  keep  his  voice  calm 
and  natural :  "  It  seems  that  the  very  day  before 
he  was  taken  ill,  Howard  went  to  a  lawyer  in 
Florence  and  made  a  codicil  to  his  will,  in  which 
he  grouped  several  bequests  heretofore  given,  into 
one  large  one,  which  he  gave  to  Barbara.  This 
he  at  once  sent  to  his  lawyer  in  Boston,  who  has 
now  written  to  Barbara." 

"  This  is  what  poor  Howard  tried  so  hard  to  tell 
me  at  the  last,"  said  Mrs.  Douglas.  "  He  began 


A    VISIT   TO    THE   SISTINE    CHAPEL.  235 

two  or  three  times,  but  did  not  have  the  strength 
to  continue.  I  suspected  it  was  something  like 
this,  but  thought  it  best  not  to  mention  it.  How 
much  is  it  ? "  she  asked  after  a  pause,  during 
which  Malcom  and  Margery  had  talked  in  earnest 
tones. 

"  Nearly  half  a  million,"  answered  Mr.  Sumner. 

Barbara  the  owner  of  nearly  half  a  million  dol- 
lars !  No  wonder  she  was  overcome  !  It  seemed 
like  an  Arabian  Nights'  tale. 

"  How  perfectly  lovely  !  "  cried  Margery ;  and 
her  mother  echoed  her  words. 

Mr.  Sumner  looked  rather  grave.  It  was  not 
that  Barbara  should  have  the  money,  but  that  an- 
other should  have  the  right  to  give  it  her.  Some 
one  else  to  bless  the  life  of  the  girl  who  was  be- 
coming so  dear  to  him  !  To  whom  he  was  begin- 
ning to  long  to  bring  all  good  things !  It  was  as 
if  the  dead  Howard  came  in  some  way  between 
himself  and  her ;  and  he  went  out  alone  beneath 
the  trees  of  the  Pincian  Gardens  to  think  it  all 
over. 

Meanwhile,  the  two  girls  were  in  their  chamber. 
Barbara  threw  herself  on  a  couch  beneath  the  win- 
dow, and  gazed  with  unseeing  eyes  up  into  the 
depths  of  the  Italian  sky.  She  was  stunned  by 
tljo  news  the  letter  had  brought,  and,  as  yet, 
thought  was  completely  passive. 


236  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Bettina  read  several  times  the  lawyer's  letter, 
trying  to  understand  its  contents.  At  last  she 
said  gently :  — 

"  Can  it  be  possible,  Bab  ?  I  can  hardly  com- 
prehend how  much  it  is.  We  have  never  thought 
of  so  much  money  in  all  our  lives.  Why !  you  are 
rich,  dear.  You  have  more  money  than  you  ever 
can  spend !  " 

Barbara  sprang  from  the  couch,  and  threw  out 
her  arms  with  an  exultant  gesture. 

"  Spend  !  I  hadn't  once  thought  of  that !  Betty  ! 
Betty !  Papa  and  mamma  shall  have  everything 
they  wish !  They  shall  never  work  so  hard  any 
more  !  Mamma  shall  have  a  seamstress  every  day, 
and  her  poor  pricked  fingers  shall  grow  smooth ! 
She  shall  have  the  loveliest  clothes,  and  never 
again  give  the  prettiest  of  everything  to  you  and 
me !  Papa  shall  have  vacations,  and  books,  and 
the  study  in  hospitals  he  has  so  longed  for  !  Rich- 
ard shall  have  college  certain  to  look  forward  to ; 
Lois  shall  have  the  best  teachers  in  the  world  for 
her  music  ;  Margaret  shall  be  an  artist ;  and  dear 
little  Bertie !  —  oh !  he  shall  have  what  he  needs 
for  everything  he  wishes  to  do  and  be !  And  they 
shall  all  come  abroad  to  this  dear  lovely  Italy,  and 
enjoy  all  that  we  are  enjoying !  And  you  and  I, 
Betty!  —  why! — you  and  I  can  have  some  new 
spring  dresses!"  And  the  excited  girl  burst  into 


A    VISIT   TO   THE    SISTINE    CHAPEL.  237 

a  flood  of  tears,  mingled  with  laughter  at  the  ab- 
surdity of  her  anti-climax. 

Bettina  did  not  know  what  to  do.  She  had 
never  seen  Barbara  so  overwrought  with  excite- 
ment. Presently,  however,  she  began  to  speak 
of  Howard,  and  before  long  they  were  talk- 
ing tenderly  of  the  young  man  who  so  short  a 
time  ago  was  a  stranger  to  them,  but  whose 
life  had  been  destined  to  touch  so  closely  their 
own. 

Barbara  was  profoundly  moved  as  she  realized 
this  proof  of  his  affection  for  her,  and  a  de- 
pression was  fast  following  her  moment  of  ex- 
ultation, when  a  tap  at  the  door  ushered  in  Mrs. 
Douglas,  who  took  her  into  her  arms  as  her 
mother  would  have  done.  Her  sweet  sym- 
pathy and  bright  practical  talk  did  a  world  of 
good  in  restoring  to  both  the  girls  their  natural 
calmness. 

Barbara,  however,  was  in  a  feverish  haste  to 
do  something  that  would  repay  her  parents  for 
the  money  she  and  Betty  were  using,  and,  to 
soothe  her,  Mrs.  Douglas  told  her  what  to  write 
to  the  lawyer,  so  that  he  would  at  once  transfer 
a  few  thousands  of  dollars  to  Dr.  Burnett.  Then 
she  said  :  — 

^  "  I  would   not  write   your   father   and   mother 
about  it  until   to-morrow.      You   can  do  it  more 


238  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

easily  then ;  and  I  will  write,  too,  if  you  would 
like.  Margery  and  Malcom  are  longing  to  see 
you.  So  is  Robert,  I  am  sure.  And  will  it  not 
be  best  for  you  to  go  right  out  somewhere  with 

us  ? " 


Chapter  XV. 
A  Morning  in  the  Vatican. 


Ob  !  their  Rafael  of  the  dear  Madonnas. 

—  BROWNING. 


LOGGIA    OF    RAPHAEL,    VATICAN,    ROME. 


IT  was,  of  course,  somewhat  difficult  for  Barbara 
to  adjust  herself  to  the  new  conditions.  After 
the  first,  however,  she  said  nothing  to  any  one 
save  Bettina  about  the  money  Howard  had  left 
her,  only,  as  in  her  ignorance  of  business  methods, 
she  had  need  to  consult  Mrs.  Douglas. 

But  she  and  Bettina  had  many  things  to  talk 
over  and  much  consultation  to  hold  regarding 
the  future.  One  evening,  after  they  had  been 
thus  busy,  Bettina  said,  nestling  closer  to  her  sister, 
as  they  sat  together  on  the  couch,  brave  in  its 
Roman  draperies :  — 

"  You  must  not  always  say  '  onr  money,'  Bab, 
dear." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  with  a  startled  look. 

"  Because  it  is  your  money,  —  your  very  own  ; 
—  trie   money    Howard   gave    you   to   spend    for 
him,  and  yourself  enjoy." 

241 


242  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

"  But,  Betty,  we  have  shared  everything  all 
our  lives.  I  do  not  know  how  to  have  or  use 
anything  that  is  not  yours  as  well  as  mine.  If 
Howard  had  known  my  heart,  he  would  have 
had  it  just  as  I  would.  I  shall  give  you  half, 
Betty.  Do  not,  oh !  do  not  refuse  it.  I  shall 
not  be  happy  with  it  unless  you  are  willing. 
Then  you  and  I  will  work  with  it  and  enjoy  it 
together.  It  is  the  only  way.  Say  yes,  dear," 
and  Barbara  looked  at  her  sister  with  an  almost 
piteous  entreaty. 

Bettina  could  say  nothing  for  a  time.  Then, 
as  if  impelled  by  the  force  of  Barbara's  desire, 
said :  — 

"Wait  until  we  get  home.  Then,  if  you  wish 
it  as  you  do  now,  I  will  do  as  papa  and  mamma 
think  best ;  for,  darling,"  in  a  somewhat  quaver- 
ing voice,  "  I  know  if  the  money  were  all  mine, 
I  should  feel  just  as  you  do."  And  a  loving  kiss 
sealed  the  compact. 

Meanwhile  the  days  in  Rome  were  passing, — 
lovely  in  nature  as  only  spring  days  in  Italy  can 
be ;  days  filled  to  overflowing  with  delightful  and 
unique  interest.  For  cities,  as  well  as  people,  pos- 
sess their  own  characteristic  individualities,  and 
Rome  is  distinctively  an  individual  city. 

From  her  foundation  by  the  shepherd-kings  far 
beyond  the  outermost  threshold  of  history,  down 


A    MORNING    IN    THE    VATICAN.  243 

through  the  six  or  seven  centuries  during  which 
she  was  engaged  in  conquering  the  nations; 
through  the  five  hundred  years  of  her  undisputed 
reign  as  proud  mistress  of  the  world ;  in  her  sad 
decay  and  fall ;  and  to-day  in  her  resurrection,  she 
is  only  herself  —  unlike  all  other  cities. 

The  fragmentary  ruins  of  her  great  heathen 
temples  arise  close  beside  her  Christian  churches,  — 
some  are  even  foundations  for  them,  —  while  the 
trappings  of  many  have  furnished  the  rich  adorn- 
ments of  Christian  altars.  Her  mediaeval  castles 
and  palaces,  crowded  to  overflowing  with  heart- 
breaking traditions,  look  out  over  smiling  gardens 
in  the  midst  of  which  stand  the  quiet,  orderly,  in- 
nocent homes  of  the  present  race  of  commonplace 
men  and  women.  Her  vast  Colosseum  is  only  an 
immense  quarry.  Her  proud  mausoleum  of  the 
Julian  Caesars  is  an  unimportant  circus. 

We  drive  or  walk  on  the  Corso,  along  which  the 
Caesars  triumphantly  led  processions  of  captives ; 
through  which,  centuries  later,  numberless  papal 
pageants  made  proud  entries  of  the  city ;  where 
the  maddest  jollities  of  carnival  seasons  have 
raged :  and  we  see  nothing  more  important  than 
modern  carriages  filled  with  gayly  dressed  women, 
and  shops  brilliant  with  modern  jewellery  and 
pretty  colored  fabrics ;  and  we  purchase  gloves, 
handkerchiefs,  and  photographs  close  to  some  spot 


244  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

over  which,  perchance,  Queen  Zenobia  passed  laden 
with  the  golden  chains  that  fettered  her  as  she 
graced  the  triumph  of  Emperor  Aurelian ;  or 
Cleopatra,  when  she  came  conqueror  of  the  proud 
heart  of  Julius  Caesar. 

We  linger  on  the  Pincio,  listening  to  the  sweet 
music  of  the  Roman  band,  while  our  eyes  wander 
out  over  the  myriad  roofs  and  domes  to  where 
great  St.  Peter's  meets  the  western  horizon ;  and 
we  forget  utterly  those  dark  centuries  during 
which  this  lovely  hill  was  given  over  to  Nero's 
fearful  ghost,  until  a  Pope,  with  his  own  hands,  cut 
down  the  grand  trees  that  crowned  its  summit,  thus 
exorcising  the  demon  birds  which  the  people  be- 
lieved to  linger  in  them  and  still  to  work  the 
wicked  emperor's  will. 

We  take  afternoon  tea  at  the  English  Mrs. 
Watson's,  beside  the  foot  of  the  Scala  di  Spagna, 
close  to  whose  top  tradition  tells  us  that  shameless 
Messalina,  Claudius's  empress,  was  mercilessly 
slain. 

And  so  it  is  throughout  the  city.  Tradition, 
legend,  and  romance  have  peopled  every  place 
we  visit.  Wars,  massacres,  and  horrible  suffering 
have  left  a  stain  at  every  step.  Love  and  faith 
and  glorious  self-sacrifice  have  consecrated  the 
ways  over  which  we  pass.  And  though  we  do 
not  give  definite  thought  to  these  things  always, 


A    MORNING    IN    THE    VATICAN.  245 

yet  all  the  time  the  city  is  weaving  her  spell 
about  our  minds  and  hearts,  and  we  suddenly 
arouse  to  find  that,  traditional  or  historic,  civilized 
or  barbarous,  conqueror  or  conquered,  ancient  or 
modern,  she  has  become  Cara  Roma  to  us,  and 
so  will  be  forevermore. 

Thus  it  had  been  with  Mrs.  Douglas  and  Mr. 
Sumner,  and  so  it  now  was  with  the  young  people 
of  their  household  who  had  come  hither  for  the 
first  time. 

The  days  flew  fast.  It  was  almost  difficult  to 
find  time  when  all  could  get  together  for  their 
art  study.  Mr.  Sumner  had  told  them  at  first 
that  here  they  would  study  under  totally  different 
conditions  from  those  in  Florence,  so  separated 
are  the  works  of  any  particular  artist  save  Michael 
Angelo. 

They  had  already  visited  individually,  as  they 
chose,  those  historic  palaces  in  which  are  most 
important  family  picture-galleries,  such  as  the 
Colonna,  Farnese,  Doria,  Corsini,  Villa  Borghese, 
etc.,  but  they  wished  to  go  all  together  to  the 
Vatican  to  hear  Mr.  Sumner  talk  of  Raphael's 
works,  and  right  glad  were  they  when  finally  a 
convenient  time  came. 

They  walked  quickly  through  many  pictured 
rcoms  and  corridors  until  they  reached  the  third 
room  of  the  famous  picture-gallery,  where  they 


246  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

took  seats,  and  Mr.  Sumner  said,  in  a  low 
voice :  —  , 

"  I  did  not  wish  to  come  here  immediately  after 
we  had  studied  Michael  Angelo's  frescoes.  It  was 
better  to  wait  for  a  time,  so  utterly  unlike  are 
these  two  great  masters  of  painting.  I  confess 
that  I  never  like  to  compare  them,  one  with  the 
other,  although  their  lives  were  so  closely  related 
that  it  is  always  natural  to  do  so.  Their  charac- 
ters were  opposite ;  so,  also,  their  work.  One 
sways  us  by  his  all-compelling  strength ;  the 
other  draws  us  by  his  alluring  charm.  Michael 
Angelo  is  in  painting  what  Dante  and  Shake- 
speare are  in  poetry,  and  Beethoven  in  music ; 
Raphael  is  like  the  gentle  Spenser  and  the  tender 
Mozart.  Michael  Angelo  is  thoroughly  original ; 
Raphael  possessed  a  peculiarly  receptive  nature, 
that  caught  something  from  all  with  whom  he 
came  into  close  contact.  Michael  Angelo  strove 
continually  to  grow ;  Raphael  struggled  for 
nothing.  Michael  Angelo's  life  was  sternly 
lonely  and  sorrowful ;  Raphael's  bright,  happy, 
and  placid.  Michael  Angelo  lived  long;  Raphael 
died  in  early  manhood. 

"  Still,"  he  continued,  after  a  moment,  as  he 
noted  the  sympathetic  faces  about  him,  "  although 
I  have  mentioned  them,  I  beg  of  you  not  to 
allow  any  of  these  personal  characteristics  or 


A    MORNING    IN    THE    VATICAN.  247 

distinctions  to  influence  you  in  your  judgment  of 
the  work  of  these  two.  Forget  the  one  to-day  as 
we  study  the  other. 

"  You  have  read  much  of  Raphael's  life,  so  I 
will  not  talk  about  that.  You  remember  that, 
when  young,  he  studied  in  Perugia,  in  Perugino's 
studio,  and  perhaps  you  will  recollect  that,  when 
we  were  there.  I  told  you  that  his  early  work 
was  exceedingly  like  that  of  this  master. 

"  Now,  look !  Here  right  before  us  is  Raphael's 
Coronation  of  the  Virgin,  —  his  first  important 
painting.  See  how  like  Perugino's  are  the  figures. 
Notice  the  exquisite  angels  on  either  side  of  the 
Virgin,  which  are  so  often  reproduced !  See  their 
pure,  childlike  faces  and  the  queer  little  stiffness 
that  is  almost  a  grace !  See  the  sweet  solemnity 
of  Christ  and  the  Madonna,  the  staid  grouping  of 
the  figures  below,  —  the  winged  cherubim,  —  the 
soft  color! 

"  I  have  here  two  photographs,"  and  he  un- 
folded and  passed  one  to  Margery,  who  was  close 
beside  him,  "  which  I  wish  you  to  look  at  carefully. 
They  are  of  works  painted  very  soon  after  the 
Coronation  ;  one,  the  Marriage  of  the  Virgin,  or  Lo 
Sposalizio,  is  in  the  Brera  Gallery  at  Milan.  It 
is  as  like  Perugino's  work  as  is  the  Coronation" 

After  a  time  spent  in  looking  at  and  talking 
about  the  picture,  during  which  Bettina  told  the 


248  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

story  of  the  blossomed  rod  which  Joseph  bears 
over  his  shoulder,  and  the  rod  without  blossoms 
which  the  disappointed  suitor  is  breaking  over  his 
knee,  Mr.  Sumner  gave  them  the  other  photograph. 

"This,"  he  resumed,  "you  will  readily  recognize, 
as  you  have  so  often  looked  at  the  picture  in  the 
Pitti  Gallery  in  Florence  —  the  Madonna  del  Gran 
Duca.  This  is  the  only  Madonna  that  belongs  to 
this  period  of  Raphael's  painting,  and  the  last  im- 
portant picture  in  the  style.  It  was  painted  during 
the  early  part  of  his  visit  to  Florence." 

"  I  never  see  this,  uncle,"  said  Margery,  as  she 
passed  the  photograph  on  to  the  others,  "  without 
thinking  how  the  Grand  Duke  carried  it  about  in 
its  rich  casket  wherever  he  went,  and  said  his 
prayers  before  it  night  and  morning.  I  am  glad 
the  people  named  it  after  him.  Don't  you  think 
it  very  beautiful,  uncle  ?  " 

"Yes;  and  it  is  one  of  the  purest  Madonnas  ever 
painted  —  so  impersonal  is  the  face,"  replied  Mr. 
Sumner. 

"  I  wish,"  he  continued,  "  I  could  go  on  like  this 
through  a  list  of  Raphael's  works  with  you,  but  it 
is  utterly  impossible,  so  many  are  there.  When 
he  went  to  Florence,  where  you  know  he  spent 
some  years,  he  fell  under  the  influence  of  the 
Florentine  artists,  and  his  work  gradually  lost  its 
resemblance  to  Perugino's.  It  gained  more  free- 


A    MORNING    IN    THE    VATICAN.  249 

dom,  action,  grace,  and  strength  of  color.  Some 
examples  of  this  second  style  of  his  painting  are  the 
Madonna  del  Cardellino,  or  Madonna  of  the  Gold- 
finch, which  you  will  remember  in  the  Uffizi  Gal- 
lery, Florence,  and  La  Belle  Jardiniere  in  the 
Louvre,  Paris.  But  I  have  brought  photographs 
of  these  pictures  so  that  you  may  see  the  striking 
difference  between  them  and  those  previously 
painted." 

Murmured  exclamations  attested  the  interest  with 
which  the  comparison  was  made.  After  all  seemed 
satisfied,  Mr.  Sumner  continued  :  — 

"After  Raphael  came  to  Rome,  summoned  by 
the  same  Pope  Julius  II.  who  sent  for  Michael 
Angelo,  and  was  thus  brought  under  the  influence 
of  that  great  painter,  his  method  again  changed. 
It  grew  firmer  and  stronger.  Then  he  painted  his 
best  pictures,  —  and  so  many  of  them  !  So,  you 
can  see,  it  is  somewhat  difficult  to  characterize 
Raphael's  work  as  a  whole,  for  into  it  came  so  many 
influences.  One  thing,  however,  is  true.  From  all 
those  whom  he  followed,  he  gathered  only  the  best 
qualities.  His  work  deservedly  holds  its  promi- 
nent place  in  the  world's  estimation ;  —  so  high 
and  sweet  and  pure  are  its  motifs,  while  their 
rendering  is  in  the  very  best  manner  of  the  High 
Renaissance.  No  other  artist  ever  painted  so 
many  noble  pictures  in  so  few  years  of  time." 


25O  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

"  Did  not  his  pupils  assist  him  in  many  works, 
uncle  ?  "  asked  Malcom,  as  his  uncle  paused  for 
a  moment. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Sumner,  rising,  "  especially 
in  the  frescoes  that  we  shall  see  by  and  by.  It 
would  have  been  utterly  impossible  for  him  to 
have  executed  all  these  with  his  own  hand.  Let 
us  now  go  out  into  this  next  gallery  through  which 
we  entered,  and  look  at  the  Transfiguration." 

So  they  went  into  the  small  room  which  is  dedi- 
cated wholly  to  three  large  pictures  :  —  the  Trans- 
figuration and  Madonna  di  Foligno  by  Raphael,  and 
the  Communion  of  St.  Jerome  by  Domenichino. 

"  Raphael's  last  picture,  which  he  left  unfin- 
ished ! "  murmured  Bettina,  and  she  took  an 
almost  reverential  attitude  before  it. 

"  How  very,  very  different  from  the  Corona- 
tion!" exclaimed  Barbara,  after  some  moments 
of  earnest  study.  "  That  is  so  utterly  simple,  so 
quiet !  This  is  more  than  dramatic  !  " 

"  Raphael's  whole  lifetime  of  painting  lies  be- 
tween the  two,"  replied  Mr.  Sumner,  who  had  been 
intently  watching  her  face  as  he  stood  beside  her. 

"  Do  you  like  this,  Mr.  Sumner  ?  I  do  not 
think  I  do,  really,"  said  Miss  Sherman,  as  she 
dropped  into  a  chair,  her  eyes  denoting  a  veiled 
displeasure,  which  was  also  apparent  in  the  tones 
of  her  voice. 


A    MORNING    IN    THE    VATICAN.  251 

"  It  is  a  difficult  picture  to  judge,"  replied  Mr. 
Sumner,  slowly.  "  I  wish  you  all  could  have  stud- 
ied many  others  before  studying  this  one.  But, 
indeed,  you  are  so  familiar  with  Raphael's  pic- 
tures that  you  need  only  to  recall  them  to  mind. 
This  was  painted  under  peculiar  circumstances,  — 
in  competition,  you  remember,  with  Sebastian  del 
Piombo's  Resurrection  of  Lazarus ;  and  Sebastian 
was  a  pupil  of  Michael  Angelo.  Some  writers 
have  affirmed  that  that  master  aided  his  pupil  in 
the  drawing  of  the  chief  figures  in  his  picture. 
Raphael  tried  harder  than  he  ever  had  done  before 
to  put  some  of  the  dramatic  vigor  and  action  of 
Michael  Angelo  into  the  figures  here  in  the  lower 
part  of  the  Transfiguration.  The  result  is  that 
he  overdid  it.  It  is  not  Raphaelesque ;  it  is  an 
unfortunate  composite.  The  composition  is  fine ; 
the  quiet  glory  of  heaven  in  the  upper  part,  —  the 
turbulence  of  earth  in  the  lower,  are  well  ex- 
pressed ;  but  the  perfection  of  artistic  effect  is 
wanting.  It  is  full  of  beauties,  yet  it  is  not  beau- 
tiful. It  has  many  defects,  yet  only  a  great  master 
could  have  designed  and  painted  it." 

By  and  by  they  turned  their  attention  to  the 
Madonna  di  Foligno,  and  were  especially  interested 
in  it  as  being  a  votive  picture.  Margery,  who  was 
very  fond  of  this  Madonna,  with  the  exquisite 
background  of  angels'  heads,  had  a  photograph  of 


252  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

it  in  her  own  room  at  home,  and  knew  the  whole 
story  of  the  origin  of  the  picture.  So  she  told  it 
at  Malcom's  request,  her  delicate  fingers  clasping 
and  unclasping  each  other,  according  to  her  habit, 
as  she  talked. 

"  How  true  it  is  that  one  ought  to  know  the 
reason  why  a  picture  is  painted,  all  about  its 
painter,  and  a  thousand  other  things,  in  order  to 
appreciate  it  properly,"  said  Malcom,  as  they 
turned  to  leave  the  room. 

"That  is  so,"  replied  his  uncle.  "I  really  feel," 
with  an  apologetic  smile,  "  that  I  can  do  nothing 
with  Raphael.  There  is  so  much  of  him  scattered 
about  everywhere.  We  will  regard  this  morning's 
study  as  only  preliminary,  and  you  must  study  his 
pictures  by  yourselves,  wherever  you  find  them. 
By  the  way,"  and  he  turned  to  look  back  through 
the  doorway,  "  you  must  not  forget  to  come  here 
again  to  see  Domenichino's  great  picture.  How 
striking  it  is !  But  we  must  not  mix  his  work 
with  Raphael's." 

They  passed  through  the  first  room  of  the  gal- 
lery, stopping  but  a  moment  to  see  two  or  three 
comparatively  unimportant  pictures  painted  by 
Raphael,  and  went  out  into  the  Loggia. 

"  I  brought  you  through  this  without  a  word, 
when  we  first  came,"  said  Mr.  Sumner.  "  But  now 
I  wish  you  to  look  up  at  the  roof-paintings.  They 


A    MORNING    IN    THE    VATICAN.  253 

were  designed  by  Raphael,  but  painted  by  his 
pupils.  You  see  they  all  have  Bible  subjects. 
For  this  reason  this  Loggia  is  sometimes  called 
'  Raphael's  Bible.'  The  composition  of  every 
picture  is  simple,  and  in  the  master's  happiest 
style." 

As  they  left  the  Loggia  and  entered  "  Raphael's 
Stanze,"  a  series  of  rooms  whose  walls  are  covered 
with  his  frescoes,  Mr.  Sumner  said  :  — 

"  We  will  to-day  only  give  a  glance  at  the  paint- 
ings in  this  first  room.  They  are,  as  you  see, 
illustrative  of  great  events  in  the  history  of  Rome. 
They  were  executed  wholly  by  Raphael's  pupils, 
after  his  designs." 

"  I  shall  come  here  again,"  said  Malcom,  in  a 
positive  tone.  "  This  is  more  in  my  line  than 
Madonnas,"  and  he  made  a  bit  of  a  wry  face. 

"And  better  still  is  to  come  for  you,"  returned 
his  uncle  with  a  smile,  as  they  passed  on.  "  Here 
in  this  next  room  are  scenes  in  the  religious  history 
of  the  city,  and  here,"  as  they  entered  the  third 
room,  "  is  the  famous  Camera  della  Segnatura." 

"  Room  of  the  Signatures  !  Why  so  called  ? " 
asked  Barbara. 

"  Because  the  Papal  indulgences  used  to  be 
signed  here;  and  here,"  continued  Mr.  Sumner, 
turning  for  a  moment  toward  Malcom,  "are  the 
greatest  of  all  Raphael's  frescoes.  We  will  now 


254  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

stop  here  for  a  few  minutes,  and  you  must  come 
again  for  real  study.  The  subjects  are  the  repre- 
sentations of  the  most  lofty  occupations  that 
engage  the  minds  of  men  —  Philosophy,  Justice, 
Theology,  and  Poetry.  This  is  the  first  painting 
done  by  Raphael  in  the  Vatican,  and  it  is  all  his 
own  work,  both  design  and  execution. 

"  Here  on  this  side,"  pointing  at  a  large  fresco 
which  covered  the  entire  wall,  "  is  La  Disputa,  or 
Theology.  Above,  on  the  ceiling,  you  see  a  sym- 
bolic figure  representing  Religion,  with  the  Bible 
in  one  hand  and  pointing  down  at  the  great  picture 
with  the  other.  Opposite  is  the  School  of  Athens. 
Above  this  is  a  figure  emblematic  of  Philosophy, 
wearing  a  diadem  and  holding  two  books.  On  the 
two  end  walls,  broken,  as  you  see,  by  the  windows, 
are  Parnassus,  peopled  with  Apollo  and  the  Muses, 
together  with  figures  of  celebrated  poets,  —  above 
which  is  the  crowned  figure  with  a  lyre  which  rep- 
resents Poetry,  —  and,"  turning,  "the  Administra- 
tion of  Law,  with  ceiling-figure  with  crown,  sword, 
and  balance,  symbolizing  Justice.  In  this  room 
the  painter  had  much  to  contend  against.  These 
opposite  windows  at  the  ends,  which  fill  the  space 
with  cross-lights,  and  around  which  he  must  place 
two  of  his  pictures,  must  have  been  discouraging. 
But  the  compositions  are  consummately  fine,  and 
the  whole  is  so  admirably  managed  that  one  does 


A    MORNING    IN    THE    VATICAN.  255 

not  even  think  of  that  which,  if  the  work  were  less 
magnificent,  would  be  harassing. 

"  I  advise  you  to  come  here  early  some  morning 
and  bring  with  you  some  full  description  of  the 
pictures,  which  tells  whom  the  figures  are  intended 
to  represent.  Study  first  each  painting  as  a  whole  ; 
see  the  fine  distribution  of  masses;  the  general 
arrangement ;  the  symmetry  of  groups  which 
balance  each  other  ;  the  harmony  of  line  and  color. 
Then  study  individual  figures  for  form,  attitude,  and 
expression.  I  think  you  will  wish  to  give  several 
mornings  to  this  one  room. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  this,  Malcom  ?  Do  you 
not  wish  to  get  acquainted  with  Plato,  Aristotle, 
Cicero,  and  Virgil  ? "  added  Mr.  Sumner,  putting 
his  hand  suddenly  on  the  young  man's  shoulder, 
and  looking  into  his  face  to  surprise  his  thought. 

"  I  think  it  is  fine,  Uncle  Rob.  It's  all  right ;  " 
and  Malcom's  steady  blue  eyes  emphasized  his 
satisfaction. 

"  What  do  you  call  Raphael's  greatest  picture  ?" 
asked  Barbara,  as  they  turned  from  the  frescoed 
walls. 

"These  are  his  most  important  frescoes,"  replied 
Mr.  Sumner  ;  "  and  all  critics  agree  that  his  most 
famous  easel  picture  is  the  Madonna  di  San  Sisto 
in.ihe  Dresden  Gallery.  This  is  so  very  familiar 
to  you  that  it  needs  no  explanation.  It  was,  you 


256  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

know,  his  last  Madonna,  and  it  contains  a  hint  of 
Divinity  in  both  mother  and  child  never  attained 
by  any  painter  before  or  since." 

"  When  shall  we  see  Raphael's  tapestries  ? " 
asked  Margery,  as  they  finally  passed  on  through 
halls  and  corridors. 

"  I  hardly  think  I  will  go  with  you  to  see  those, 
Madge  dear,"  answered  her  uncle.  "  There  is 
no  further  need  that  I  explain  any  of  Raphael's 
work  to  you.  Your  books  and  your  own  critical 
tastes,  which  are  pretty  well  formed  by  this  time, 
will  be  quite  sufficient.  Indeed,"  looking  around 
until  he  caught  Barbara's  eyes,  "  I  really  think 
you  can  study  all  the  remaining  paintings  in 
Rome  by  yourselves,"  and  he  was  made  happy 
by  seeing  the  swift  regret  which  clouded  them. 

"  When  we  return  to  Florence,"  he  added,  "  you 
will  be  more  interested  than  when  we  were  there 
before  in  looking  at  Raphael's  Madonnas  and 
portraits  in  those  galleries ;  and  on  our  way  from 
Florence  to  Venice,  we  will  stop  at  Bologna  to 
see  his  St.  Cecilia." 

"  How  perfectly  delightful ! "  cried  Bettina.  "  I 
have  been  wishing  to  see  that  ever  since  we  went 
to  the  church  of  St.  Cecilia  the  other  day.  I  was 
greatly  interested  to  know  that  it  had  once  been 
her  own  home,  and  in  everything  there  connected 
with  her.  She  was  so  brave,  and  true,  and  good ! 


A    MORNING    IN    THE   VATICAN.  2$/ 

It  seems  as  if  Raphael  could  have  painted  a 
worthy  picture  of  her !  " 

As  Bettina  suddenly  checked  her  pretty  enthu- 
siasm, her  face  flushed  painfully,  and  Barbara, 
seeking  the  cause,  caught  the  supercilious  smile 
with  which  Miss  Sherman  was  regarding  her 
sister.  She  at  once  divined  that  poor  Bettina 
feared  that,  in  some  way,  she  had  made  herself 
ridiculous  to  the  older  lady. 

Going  swiftly  to  her  sister  she  threw  her  arm 
closely  about  her  waist,  and  with  a  charming  air 
of  defiance,  —  with  erect  head  and  flashing  eyes, 
said :  — 

"  Mr.  Sumner,  St.  Cecilia  is  a  real,  historical 
character,  is  she  not  ?  As  much  so  as  St.  Francis, 
Nero,  or  Marcus  Aurelius  ?  "  The  slight  emphasis 
on  the  last  name  recalled  to  all  the  party  the 
effusive  eulogiums  Miss  Sherman  had  lavished 
upon  that  famous  imperial  philosopher  a  few  days 
before,  while  they  were  looking  at  his  bust  in  the 
museum  of  Palazzo  Laterano ;  when,  unfortu- 
nately, she  had  imputed  to  him  certain  utterances 
that  rightfully  belong  to  another  literary  man  who 
lived  in  quite  a  different  age  and  country. 

Mr.  Sumner  could  not  avoid  a  merry  twinkle 
of  his  eyes  as  he  strove  to  answer  with  becoming 
gravity,  and  Malcom  hastily  pushed  on  far  in 
advance. 


258  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Once  at  home,  Malcom  and  Margery  gave  their 
version  of  the  affair  to  their  mother. 

"  It  isn't  the  first  time  she  has  looked  like  that 
at  both  Barbara  and  Betty,"  averred  Malcom,  em- 
phatically, "  and  they  have  known  and  felt  it,  too." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  said  Mrs.  Douglas,  with  a 
troubled  look. 

"  Oh !  you  need  not  fear  anything  further, 
mother  mia,"  said  Malcom,  sympathizingly.  "  Bar- 
bara will  never  show  any  more  feeling.  She 
would  not  have  done  it  for  herself,  only  for  Betty. 
Under  the  circumstances  she  just  had  to  fire  her 
independence-gun,  that  is  all.  Now  there  will  be 
perfect  peace  on  her  side.  You  know  her. 

"  And,"  he  added  in  an  aside  to  Margery,  as  his 
mother  was  leaving  the  room,  "  Miss  Sherman  will 
not  dare  to  be  cross  openly  for  fear  of  mother  and 
Uncle  Rob.  I  didn't  dare  to  look  at  her.  But 
wasn't  it  rich  ? "  And  he  went  off  into  a  peal  of 
laughter. 

"  It  was  only  what  she  deserved,  anyway,"  said 
Margery,  who  was  usually  most  gentle  in  all  her 
judgments. 

It  was  quite  a  commentary  on  Mrs.  Douglas's 
judgment  of  Lucile  Sherman's  character  at  this 
time,  that  she  now  deemed  it  best  to  tell  her  of 
Howard's  bequest  to  Barbara,  about  which  she  had 
heretofore  held  silence. 


Chapter  XVI. 
Poor  Barbara's  Trouble. 


0,  boiu  this  spring  of  love  resembletb 
The  uncertain  glory  of  an  April  day  ; 
Wb'icb  noiv  shows  all  the  beauty  of  the  sun, 
And  by  and  by  a  cloud  takes  alt  a-way. 

•    — SHAKESPEARE. 


A     BIT    OF    AMALFI. 


BARBARA    and     Bettina,    sometimes    accom- 
panied by  Mrs.  Douglas,  sometimes  by  Mal- 
com,  usually  by  Margery,  saw  all  the  remaining 
and  important  art  treasures  of  Rome. 

They  studied  long  the  Vatican  and  Capitol  sculp- 
tures ;  went  to  the  Barberini  Palace  to  see  Raphael's 
La  Fornarina,  so  rich  in  color ;  and,  close  beside  it, 
the  pale,  tearful  face  of  Beatrice  Cenci,  so  long  attrib- 
uted to  Guido  Reni,  but  whose  authorship  is  now 
doubtful ;  to  the  doleful  old  church  Santa  Maria 
dei  Capuccini,  to  see  St.  Michael  and  the  Dragon 
by  Guido  Reni,  in  which  they  were  especially  inter- 
ested, because  Hawthorne  made  it  a  rendezvous  of 
the  four  friends  in  his  "  Marble  Faun,"  where  so 
diverse  judgments  of  the  picture  were  pronounced, 
each  having  its  foundation  in  the  heart  and  experi- 
ence of  the  speaker.  They  had  been  reading  this 

261 


262  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

book  in  the  same  way  in  which  they  had  read 
"  Romola"  in  Florence,  and  each  girl  was  now  the 
happy  possessor  of  a  much-prized  copy,  interleaved 
by  herself  with  photographs  of  the  Roman  scenes 
and  works  of  art  mentioned  in  the  book. 

They  went  to  the  garden-house  of  the  Rospigliosi 
Palace  to  see  on  its  ceiling  Guido  Reni's  Aurora, 
one  of  the  finest  decorative  pictures  ever  painted. 
And  to  the  Accademia  di  San  Luca  to  find  the 
drawing  by  Canevari  after  Van  Dyck's  portrait  of 
the  infant  son  of  Charles  I.  in  the  Turin  Gallery, 
which  is  so  often  reproduced  under  the  name  of 
the  Stuart  Baby.  Not  many  pictures,  great  or 
small,  escaped  their  eager  young  eyes.  They 
grew  familiar  with  the  works  of  Domenichino, 
Guercino,  Garofalo,  Carlo  Dolci,  Sassoferrato,  etc., 
and  the  days  of  their  stay  in  Rome  rapidly 
passed  by. 

Mrs.  Douglas  was  very  desirous  to  take  them  for 
a  few  days  to  Naples,  or  rather  to  the  environments 
of  Naples.  To  herself  it  would  be  a  pilgrimage  of 
affection  ;  and  in  those  drives,  loveliest  in  the  world, 
she  would  recall  many  precious  memories  of  the 
past. 

"  I  hesitated  to  speak  of  doing  this  before,"  said 
she,  when  she  suggested  it  to  her  brother,  "  because 
I  have  tried  to  make  the  whole  trip  comparatively 
inexpensive,  remembering  the  shortness  of  the  dear 


POOR  BARBARA'S  TROUBLE.  263 

doctor's  purse.  Now,  of  course,  this  needs  no 
consideration." 

So  they  planned  to  go  there  for  a  short  visit ; 
and  on  their  return  it  would  be  time  to  pack  their 
trunks  for  Florence,  where  they  were  to  stop  two 
or  three  days  before  going  northward  toward 
Venice. 

A  morning  ride  from  Rome  to  Naples  during 
the  early  days  of  May  is  idyllic.  In  the  smiling 
sunshine  they  rushed  on  through  wide  meadows 
covered  with  luxuriant  verdure  and  vineyards 
flushed  with  delicate  greens.  After  they  had 
passed  Capua,  which  is  magnificently  situated  on 
a  wide  plain,  —  amphitheatre-like  within  its  half- 
circle  of  lovely  hills,  flanked  behind  by  the  Apen- 
nines, —  Malcom  said,  as  he  finally  drew  in  his 
head  from  the  open  window  and,  with  a  very  con- 
tented look,  settled  back  into  a  corner  of  the 
compartment,  with  one  arm  thrown  about  his 
mother's  shoulders :  — 

"  It  is  no  wonder  that  old  Hannibal's  army 
grew  effeminate  after  the  soldiers  had  lived  here 
for  some  months,  and  so  was  easily  conquered. 
Life  could  not  have  had  many  hardships  in  such  a 
place  as  this. 

"I  declare!"  he  added  with  a  laugh  as  he  shook 
b?ck  the  wind-blown  hair  from  his  forehead;  "it  is 
difficult  to  realize  these  days  in  what  century  one 


264  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

is  living.  My  mind  has  been  so  full  of  ancient 
history  lately  that  I  feel  quite  like  an  antique 
myself." 

"  I  know,"  answered  his  uncle  with  a  smile, 
"how  life  widens  and  lengthens  as  thought  ex- 
pands under  the  influence  of  travel  through 
historic  scenes.  One  may  study  history  from 
books  for  a  lifetime  and  never  realize  it  as  he 
would  could  he,  even  for  an  hour,  be  placed  upon 
the  very  spot  where  some  important  event  took 
place.  What  a  fact  Hannibal's  army  of  two 
thousand  years  ago  becomes  to  us  when  we  know 
that  these  very  mountain  tops  which  are  before  us 
looked  down  upon  it,  —  that  its  soldiers  idled,  ate, 
and  slept  on  this  very  plain." 

Thus  talking,  almost  before  they  knew,  they 
came  out  upon  the  beautiful  Bay  of  Naples. 
They  saw  the  little  island  of  Capri,  the  larger 
Ischia  crowned  with  its  volcanic  mountains,  and, 
between  it  and  the  point  of  Posilipo,  where  once 
stood  Virgil's  villa,  the  tiny  island  Nisida  (old 
"Nesis"),  whither  Brutus  fled  after  the  assassina- 
tion of  Julius  Caesar;  where  Cicero  visited  him, 
and  where  he  bade  adieu  to  his  wife,  Portia,  when 
he  set  sail  for  Greece. 

"  Looking  out  over  this  same  bay,  these  same 
islands,  Virgil  sang  of  flocks,  of  fields,  and  of 
heroes,"  said  Mr.  Sumner,  following  the  former 


POOR  BARBARA'S  TROUBLE.  265 

line  of  thought,  as  he  began  to  take  from  the  racks 
above  the  valises  of  the  party. 

Arrived  at  their  hotel,  which  was  situated  in  the 
higher  quarters  of  the  city,  they  were  ensconced 
in  rooms  whose  balconied  windows  commanded 
magnificent  views  of  the  softly  radiant  city,  the 
bay,  and,  close  at  hand,  Mount  Vesuvius,  over 
which  was  hovering  the  usual  cloud  of  smoke. 

At  the  close  of  the  afternoon  Barbara  and 
Bettina  stood  long  on  their  own  window-balcony. 
The  scene  was  fascinating  —  even  more  so  than 
they  had  dreamed. 

"There  is  but  one  Naples,  as  there  is  but  one 
Rome  and  one  Florence,"  said  Barbara  softly. 
"  Each  city  is  grandly  beautiful  in  its  own  indi- 
vidual way,  but  for  none  has  nature  done  so  much 
as  for  Naples." 

In  silence  they  watched  the  sunset  glow  and 
the  oncoming  twilight,  until  the  call  for  dinner 
sounded  through  the  halls. 

"  I  fear  to  leave  it  all,"  said  Bettina,  turning 
reluctantly  away,  "  lest  we  can  never  find  it 
again." 

The  next  three  days  were  crowded  to  the  brim. 
One  was  spent  in  going  to  the  top  of  Vesuvius; 
another  in  the  great  Museum,  so  interesting  with 
its  remains  of  antique  sculptures,  so  destitute  of 
important  paintings;  the  third  in  driving  about 


266  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

the  city,  to  San  Martino,  and  around  the  point 
of  Posilipo,  ending  with  a  visit  to  Virgil's  tomb. 

Then  came  the  Sabbath,  and  they  attended 
morning  service  in  the  Cathedral,  —  in  the  very 
chapel  of  San  Januarius  which  is  decorated  with 
pictures  by  Domenichino,  Guido  Reni,  and  Lan- 
franco,  the  completion  of  which  was  prevented 
by  the  jealousy  of  the  Neapolitan  painters. 

The  next  morning  they  went  to  Pompeii,  where 
in  the  late  afternoon  carriages  were  to  meet  them 
for  beginning  the  drive  through  Castellammare, 
Sorrento,  and  Amalfi  to  La  Cava. 

The  absorbing  charm  of  Pompeii,  whose  resur- 
rection began  after  nearly  seventeen  centuries  of 
burial  and  is  yet  only  partial,  at  once  seized  them, 
—  all  of  them,  —  for,  visit  the  ruined  city  often  as 
one  may,  yet  the  sight  of  its  worn  streets  with 
their  high  stepping-stones,  its  broken  pavements, 
its  decorated  walls,  its  shops,  —  all  possess  such 
an  atmosphere  of  departed  life  that  its  fascina- 
tion is  complete,  and  does  not  yield  to  familiarity. 

After  hours  of  wandering  about  with  their 
guide,  seeing  the  points  of  most  interest,  —  the 
beautiful  houses  recently  excavated,  the  homes 
of  Glaucus,  of  Pansa,  of  Sallust,  of  Orpheus,  of 
Diomedes  and  very  many  others ;  the  forum, 
temples,  and  amphitheatre  —  they  sat  long  amid 
the  ruins,  looking  at  the  fatal  mountain,  so  close 


POOR  BARBARA'S  TROUBLE.  267 

at  hand,  and  the  desolation  at  its  foot,  and  medi- 
tated upon  the  terrors  of  that  fearful  night. 

Malcom  read  aloud  the  story  as  related  by 
Pliny,  a  volume  of  whose  letters  he  had  put  into 
his  pocket,  and  Margery  recited  some  lines  of  a 
beautiful  sonnet  on  Pompeii  which  she  had  once 
learned,  whose  author  she  did  not  remember:  — 

"  No  chariot  wheels  invade  her  stony  roads ; 
Priestless  her  temples,  lone  her  vast  abodes, 
Deserted,  —  forum,  palace,  everywhere! 
Yet  are  her  chambers  for  the  master  fit, 
Her  shops  are  ready  for  the  oil  and  wine, 
Ploughed  are  her  streets  with  many  a  chariot  line, 
And  on  her  walls  to-morrow's  play  is  writ, — 
Of  that  to-morrow  which  might  never  be! " 

The  spell  was  not  broken  until  Mr.  Sumner, 
looking  at  his  watch,  declared  it  was  quite  time 
they  should  return  to  the  little  hotel,  take  an 
afternoon  lunch,  and  so  be  ready  when  the  car- 
riages should  await  them. 

The  beauty  of  the  drive  from  Naples  to  the 
Bay  of  Salerno  has  been  set  forth,  by  many  writers, 
in  prose  and  song  and  poem,  and  remembering  this, 
Barbara's  and  Bettina's  faces  were  radiant  with 
expectation  as  they  started  upon  it.  Malcom  and 
Margery  were  in  the  carriage  with  them ;  the 
atmosphere  was  perfection ;  the  sun  shone  with 
just  the  right  degree  of  heat;  the  waters  of  the 


268  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

beautiful  Bay  of  Naples  were  just  rippling  be- 
neath the  soft  breeze,  and  seventeen  miles  of 
incomparable  loveliness  lay  between  them  and 
Sorrento,  where  they  were  to  spend  the  night. 
What  wonder  they  were  happy ! 

Just  as  they  were  entering  the  town  of  Castel- 
lammare  (the  ancient  Stabiae,  where  the  elder 
Pliny  perished)  the  carriage  containing  Mrs. 
Douglas,  Miss  Sherman,  and  Mr.  Sumner,  which 
had  thus  far  followed  them,  dashed  past,  and  its 
occupants  were  greeted  with  a  merry  peal  of 
laughter  from  the  four  young  voices. 

"  How  joyous  they  are  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Doug- 
las, her  own  face  reflecting  their  happiness.  "  You 
look  envious,  Robert." 

Then,  turning  to  Miss  Sherman,  she  added  :  "  I 
never  tire  of  watching  Barbara  and  Bettina  these 
days.  I  believe  they  are  two  of  the  rarest  girls  in 
the  world.  Nothing  has  yet  spoiled  them,  and  I 
think  nothing  ever  will.  It  has  been  one  of  the 
sweetest  things  possible  to  see  their  little  every- 
day chanties  since  they  have  had  money  in  abun- 
dance. Before,  they  felt  that  every  dollar  their 
parents  spared  them  was  a  sacred  trust  to  be  used 
just  for  their  positive  needs.  Now,  their  evident 
delight  in  giving  to  the  flower-girls,  to  the  street- 
gamins,  to  the  beggars,  to  everything  miserable 
that  offers,  is  delightful." 


POOR  BARBARA'S  TROUBLE.  269 

"  Do  you  think  Barbara  will  know  how  to  be 
wise  in  the  spending  of  her  money  ? "  asked  Miss 
Sherman,  with  a  constrained  smile. 

"  As  to  the  wise  ways  of  spending  money," 
answered  Mrs.  Douglas,  stealing  a  glance  at  her 
brother's  imperturbable  face  opposite,  "  everybody 
has  his  own  individual  opinion.  I,  myself,  feel  sure 
of  Barbara.  Before  her  money  came,  she  had 
received  the  greater  and  far  more  important  heri- 
tage of  a  noble-minded  ancestry  and  a  childhood 
devoted  to  unselfish  living  and  the  seeking  of  the 
highest  things.  During  these  eighteen  years  her 
character  has  been  formed,  and  it  is  so  grounded 
that  the  mere  possession  of  money  will  not  alter  it. 
To  my  mind  it  is  a  happy  thing  that  Howard's 
money  will  be  used  in  such  a  personal  way  as  I 
think  it  will  be." 

"  Personal  a  way  ? "  queried  Miss  Sherman. 

"  I  mean  personal  as  distinguished  £rom  institu- 
tional—  you  know  his  first  intention  was  to  endow 
institutions.  For  instance,  within  a  week  after 
Barbara  received  the  lawyer's  announcement,  she 
consulted  me  as  to  how  she  could  best  make  provi- 
sion for  an  old  lady  who  has  been  for  years  more 
or  less  of  a  pensioner  of  her  father's  family.  The 
dear  old  woman  with  a  little  aid  has  supported  her- 
self for  many  years,  but  lately  it  has  seemed  as  if 
She  would  have  to  give  up  the  wee  bit  of  a  home 


2/o  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

she  loves  so  much  and  become  an  inmate  of  some 
great  Institution,  and  this  would  almost  break  her 
heart.  Barbara  was  in  haste  to  put  enough  money 
at  her  disposal  so  that  a  good  woman  may  be  hired 
to  come  and  care  for  her  so  long  as  she  shall  live, 
and  to  provide  for  all  her  wants.  Also  she  remem- 
bered a  poor  young  girl,  once  her  and  Betty's 
schoolmate,  who  has  always  longed  for  further 
study,  whose  one  ambition  has  been  to  go  to  col- 
lege. This  was  simply  impossible ,  not  even  the 
strictest  economy,  even  the  going  without  neces- 
sities, has  gathered  together  sufficient  money  for 
the  expenses  of  a  single  year.  Before  we  left 
Rome,  Barbara  arranged  for  the  deposit  in  the 
bank  at  home  of  enough  money  to  permit  this 
struggling  girl  to  look  forward  with  certainty  to 
a  college  course,  and  wrote  the  letter  which  will 
bring  her  so  much  joy. 

"  Dear  child ! "  she  continued  tenderly,  after  a 
pause ;  "  the  only  bit  of  money  she  has  yet  spent 
for  herself  was  to  get  the  spring  outfits  that  she 
and  Betty  have  really  needed  for  some  time,  but 
for  which  they  did  not  like  to  use  their  father's 
money. 

"  And  I  do  believe,"  after  another  pause,  "  that 
the  two  girls'  lives  will  be  passed  as  unostenta- 
tiously as  if  the  money  had  not  come  to  them." 

"  Why  do  you  speak  as  if  the  money  had  come 


POOR  BARBARAS  TROUBLE.        2/1 

to  both  ? "  asked    Miss    Sherman,  with   a  curious 
inflection  of  the  voice. 

"  Did  I  ?  I  did  not  realize  it.  But  I  will  not 
change  my  words ;  for,  unless  I  mistake  much,  the 
money  will  be  Bettina's  as  much  as  Barbara's,  and 
this,  because  Barbara  will  have  it  so." 
.  The  words  were  hardly  spoken  by  Mrs.  Douglas 
when  Mr.  Sumner,  who  was  riding  backward  and 
so  facing  the  following  carriage,  sprang  up,  crying 
in  a  low,  smothered  tone  of  alarm,  "  Barbara !" 

But  Mrs.  Douglas  had  not  time  to  turn  before 
he  sank  back  saying  :  "  Excuse  me.  I  must  have 
been  mistaken.  I  thought  that  something  was  the 
matter;  that  Barbara  had  been  taken  ill." 

Then  he  added,  in  explanation  to  his  sister : 
"The  carriage  was  so  far  back,  as  it  rounded  a 
curve,  permitting  me  to  look  into  it,  that  I  could 
not  see  very  distinctly." 

Miss  Sherman  bit  her  lip  and  rode  on  in  silence. 
Mr.  Sumner's  concern  for  Barbara  seemed  pain- 
fully evident  to  her.  She  had  much  that  was  dis- 
agreeable to  think  of,  for  it  was  impossible  to  avoid 
contrasting  herself  with  the  picture  of  Barbara 
which  Mrs.  Douglas  had  drawn.  She  thought  of 
the  sister  at  home  who  so  patiently,  year  after 
year,  had  given  up  her  own  cherished  desires  that 
she  might  be  gratified ;  who  had  needed,  far  more 
than  she  herself  had,  the  change  and  rest  of  this 


272  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

year  abroad,  but  whom  she  had  forced  to  return 
with  the  father,  even  though  she  knew  well  it  was 
her  own  duty  to  go,  —  how  many  such  instances 
of  selfishness  had  filled  her  life ! 

She  felt  that  she  could  almost  hate  this  fortunate 
Barbara,  who  so  easily  was  gaining  all  the  things 
she  herself  coveted,  —  admiration,  —  wealth,  — 
love  ?  no,  not  if  she  could  help  it !  and  she  forced 
herself  to  smile,  to  praise  the  same  qualities  of 
heart  that  Mrs.  Douglas  had  admired ;  to  talk 
pityingly  of  the  miserable  ones  of  earth ;  ador- 
ingly of  self-sacrificing,  heroic  deeds,  and  sympa- 
thizingly  of  noble  endeavor. 

What  had  been  the  matter  in  the  other  carriage  ? 
After  the  burst  of  gayety  with  which  the  three 
girls  and  Malcom  had  greeted  the  swifter  equi- 
page as  it  rolled  past  theirs,  nothing  was  said  for 
some  time,  until  Malcom  suddenly  burst  out  with 
the  expression  of  what  had  evidently  been  the 
subject  of  his  thought :  — 

"  Girls,  do  you  think  that  Uncle  Robert  is  fall- 
ing in  love  with  Miss  Sherman  ?  " 

The  question  fell  like  a  bombshell  into  the  little 
group.  Margery  first  found  a  voice,  but  it  was  a 
most  awed,  repressed  one  :  — 

"  Why,  Malcom !  could  he  ever  love  anybody 
again  ?  You  know  —  oh !  what  could  make  you 


POOR  BARBARA'S  TROUBLE.  273 

think  of  such  a  thing?  It  is  not  like  you  to 
make  light  of  Uncle  Robert's  feelings." 

"  I  am  not  doing  so,  Madge  dear.  Men  can 
love  twice.  It  would  not  hurt  Margaret  should  he 
learn  to  love  some  one  else.  And  it  would  be  ever 
so  much  better  for  him.  Uncle's  life  seems  very 
lonely  to  me.  Now  he  is  busy  with  us;  but  just 
think  of  the  long  years  when  he  is  living  and 
working  over  here  all  alone.  Still,  I  am  sure  I 
would  not  choose  Miss  Sherman  for  him.  Yet  I 
am  not  certain  but  it  looks  some  like  it.  What  do 
you  think,  Betty?" 

"I  —  don't  —  know  —  what  —  I  —  do  —  think, 
—  Malcom.  You  know  how  much  I  love  and  ad- 
mire your  uncle.  I  do  not  think  there  are  many 
women  good  enough  to  be  his  wife." 

Bettina  thought,  but  did  not  say,  that  she  could 
not  love  and  admire  Miss  Sherman,  who  had  made 
it  quite  evident  to  Barbara  and  herself  that  she 
cared  nothing  for  them,  save  as  they  were  under 
the  care  of  Mrs.  Douglas;  who  had  never  given 
them  any  companionship,  or,  at  least,  never  had 
until  during  the  past  week  or  two,  after  she  had 
learned  that  Barbara  was  Howard's  heiress. 

Barbara  drew  her  breath  quickly  and  sharply. 
Could  such  a  thing  as  this  be?  was  this  to  come? 
In  her  mind,  Mr.  Sumner  was  consecrated  to  the 
clead  Margaret,  about  whom  she  had  thought  so 


274  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

much,  —  the  picture  of  whose  lovely  face  she 
had  so  often  studied,  —  whose  character  she  had 
adorned  with  all  possible  graces !  She  listened,  as 
in  a  dream,  to  Bettina  and  Malcom.  He  should 
not  love  any  one  else ;  or,  if  he  could  —  poor 
Barbara's  heart  was  ruthlessly  torn  open  and  re- 
vealed unto  her  consciousness.  She  felt  that  the 
others  must  read  the  tale  in  her  confused  face. 

Confused  ?  No,  Barbara,  it  was  pale  and  still,  as 
if  a  mortal  wound  had  been  given. 

Her  head  reeled,  the  world  grew  dark,  and  it 
was  silence  until  she  heard  Bettina  saying  franti- 
cally :  — 

"  Bab,  dear!  are  you  faint?    Oh !  what  is  it  ? " 

With  an  almost  superhuman  effort  Barbara  drew 
herself  up  and  smiled  bravely,  with  white  lips :  — 

"  It  is  nothing  —  only  a  moment's  dizziness.  It 
is  all  over  now." 

This  was  what  Mr.  Sumner  saw  when  he  sprang 
up  in  alarm,  and  then  in  a  moment  said :  "  Every- 
thing seems  all  right  now." 

But  poor  Barbara  thought  nothing  could  ever  be 
right  again.  And  when  their  carriage  drew  up  in 
the  spacious  courtyard  of  their  hotel  at  Sorrento, 
and  Mr.  Sumner,  with  an  unusually  bright  and 
eager  face,  stood  waiting  to  help  her  alight,  it  was 
a  frozen  little  hand  that  was  put  into  his,  and  he 
could  not  win  a  single  glance  from  the  eyes  he 


POOR  BARBARA'S  TROUBLE.  275 

loved  to  watch,  and  from  which  he  was  impatient 
to  learn  if  it  were  indeed  well  with  the  owner. 

To  this  day  Barbara  shudders  at  the  thought  or 
mention  of  the  next  four  or  five  days.  And  they 
were  such  rare  days  for  enjoyment,  could  she 
have  forgotten  her  own  heart :  —  across  the  blue 
waters  to  Capri,  with  a  visit  by  the  way  to  the 
famous  Blue  Grotto;  a  whole  day  in  that  lovely 
town,  walking  about  its  winding,  climbing  streets ; 
the  long  drive  from  Sorrento  to  quaint  Prajano, 
with,  on  one  hand,  towering,  rugged  limestone 
cliffs,  to  whose  rough  sides,  every  here  and  there, 
clings  an  Italian  village,  and,  on  the  other,  the 
smiling,  wide-spreading  Mediterranean ;  the  little 
rovvboat  ride  to  Amalfi ;  the  day  full  of  interest 
spent  there ;  and  then  the  drive  close  beside  the 
sea  toward  Palermo,  terminated  by  a  sharp  turn 
toward  the  blue  mountains  among  which  nestles 
La  Cava;  the  railway  ride  back  to  Naples. 

She  struggled  bravely  to  be  her  old  self,  —  to 
hide  everything  from  all  eyes.  But  she  felt  so 
wofully  humiliated,  for  she  now  knew  for  the  first 
time  that  she  loved  Robert  Sumner ;  loved  him  so 
that  it  was  positive  agony  to  think  that  he  might 
love  another,  —  so  that  it  was  almost  a  pain  to  re- 
member that  he  had  ever  loved.  What  would  he 
think  should  he  suspect  the  truth !  And  she  was 
*so  fearful  that  her  eyes  might  give  a  hint  of  it 


276  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

that,  try  in  as  many  ways  as  he  could,  Mr.  Sum- 
ner  could  never  get  a  good  look  into  them  during 
these  days.  The  kinder  he  was,  and  the  more 
zealously  he  endeavored  to  add  to  her  comfort 
and  happiness,  the  more  wretched  she  grew.  She 
longed  to  get  away  from  everybody,  even  from 
Betty,  lest  her  secret  might  become  apparent  to 
the  keen  sisterly  affection  that  knew  her  so  inti- 
mately. She  began  to  feel  a  fierce  longing  for 
home  and  for  father  and  mother  ;  and  the  months 
which  must  necessarily  elapse  before  she  could  be 
there  stretched  drearily  before  her. 

Robert  Sumner  was  perplexed  and  distressed. 
He  had  just  begun  to  enjoy  a  certain  happiness. 
The  struggle  within  himself  was  over,  and  he  was 
beginning  to  give  himself  up  to  the  delight  of 
thinking  freely  of  Barbara ;  of  loving  her ;  of 
feeling  a  sort  of  possession  of  her,  though  he 
did  not  yet  dream  of  such  a  thing  as  ever  being 
to  her  more  than  he  now  was,  —  a  valued  friend. 
There  were  so  many  years,  and  an  experience  of 
life  that  counted  far  more  than  years,  between 
them  ! 

He  had  listened  to  his  sister's  conversation  with 
Miss  Sherman  on  the  way  from  Pompeii  to  Sor- 
rento with  an  exultation  which  it  would  have  been 
difficult  for  him  to  account  for.  He  gloried  in  the 
sweet  unselfishness,  the  simple  goodness  of  the 


POOR  BARBARA'S  TROUBLE.  277 

young  girl.  "  My  little  Barbara,"  his  heart  sang ; 
and  full  of  this  emotion  when  they  reached  Sor- 
rento, he  allowed  the  two  ladies  to  go  alone  into 
the  hotel,  while  he  waited  impatiently  to  look  into 
Barbara's  face  and  to  feel  the  touch  of  her  hand. 
But  what  a  change  !  What  could  have  wrought 
it  ?  Before  this,  she  had  always  met  his  look  with 
such  frank  sympathy !  As  the  days  passed  on 
without  change,  and  his  eyes,  more  than  any 
others,  noticed  the  struggle  to  conceal  her  un- 
happiness,  the  mystery  deepened. 


Chapter  XVII. 
Robert  Sumner  is  Imprudent. 


Our  indiscretion  sometimes  serves  us  well — 

Wben  our  deep  plots  do  pall ;  and  that  should  teach  us, 

There's  a  di-vinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 

Rough-hew  them  bow  we  will. 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 


CAMPO    SANTO,    BOLOGNA. 


one  morning  very  soon  after  the  re- 
1— '  turn  to  Rome,  Bettina,  with  a  troubled 
face,  knocked  at  Mrs.  Douglas's  door. 

"  Barbara   is   ill,"    said    she.     "  I   knew  in   the 
night   that   she  was  very  restless,   but  not   until 
just  now  did  I  see  that  she  is  really  ill." 
"  What  seems  to  be  the  matter  ?  " 
"  I  think  she  must  be  very  feverish." 
"  Feverish  ? "    repeated    Mrs.    Douglas,   with    a 
startled    look,  as  she   hastily  prepared   to  accom- 
pany Betty  back  to  her  room.     In  a  few  minutes 
she  sought  her  brother,  her  face  full  of  anxiety. 
"  Robert,  I    fear  Barbara    has  the  fever.     Her 
temperature  must   be   high ;    her   face  is   greatly 
flushed,    and    her   eyes    dull,    and   she    says   her 
whole  body  is  full  of  pain." 

"We  must  take   her  away  at  once  out  of   the 
281 


282  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

atmosphere  of  Rome,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Sumner, 
with  decision. 

"  But  she  feels  so  wretchedly  ill." 

"  Never  mind  that.  If  she  can  only  endure 
the  fatigue  for  a  few  hours,  we  may  save  her 
weeks  of  suffering  and  possible  danger,"  and 
his  voice  faltered. 

"Remember,  sistqr,"  he  continued,  "that  I  am 
at  home  here  in  this  climate,  and  trust  me.  Or, 
better  still,  I  will  at  once  consult  Dr.  Yonge, 
and  I  know  you  will  trust  him.  And,  sister, 
get  everything  ready  so  that  we  —  Barbara,  you, 
and  I  —  may  take  the  very  first  train  for  Orvieto. 
That  will  take  her  in  two  hours  into  a  high  and 
pure  atmosphere.  The  others  can  follow  as  soon 
as  possible." 

Quickly  the  plans  were  made.  Malcom,  Mar- 
gery, and  Bettina  were  to  be  left  to  complete 
the  packing  of  trunks.  Dr.  Yonge  agreed  fully 
with  Mr.  Sumner,  and  on  the  nine  o'clock  train 
northward  Mrs.  Douglas,  Barbara,  and  Mr.  Sum- 
ner left  Rome. 

Miss  Sherman,  quite  upset  by  the  rapid  move- 
ment of  affairs,  decided  to  remain  a  little  longer 
in  Rome  with  friends  whom  she  had  met  there, 
and  join  the  others  later  in  Venice. 

It  was  a  severe  trial  to  poor  Bettina  to  see 
her  darling  sister  thus  almost  literally  borne 


ROBERT    SUMNER    IS    IMPRUDENT.  283 

away  from  her.  But  she  tried  to  put  faith  in 
Mr.  Sumner's  assurances,  and  bravely  resisted 
the  anxious  longing  to  go  with  her.  She  im- 
mediately gave  herself  up  to  the  work  of  finish- 
ing the  packing  of  their  own  trunks  and  of 
helping  Margery  all  she  could. 

Mr.  Sumner  had  commissioned  Malcom  to  go 
up  to  his  studio  and  gather  into  boxes  all  his 
canvases  and  painting  materials;  and  soon  all 
three  were  working  as  fast  as  they  could,  with 
the  design  of  following  the  others  the  next 
morning. 

Presently  Malcom  appeared  at  Bettina's  door 
with  the  request  that  she  should  go  up  to  the 
studio  when  she  could  leave  her  work  for  a  minute. 

"Come  alone  —  by  yourself,"  he  added  in  a 
low  voice. 

Wondering  a  little  at  the  singular  request  and 
the  peculiar  expression  of  Malcom's  face,  Bet- 
tina  soon  followed  him. 

Entering  the  studio,  she  found  him  attentively 
regarding  a  small  canvas  which  he  had  placed 
on  an  easel,  and  took  her  place  beside  him  that 
she  might  look  at  it  also. 

"  How  lovely ! "  she  cried,  and  then  a  puzzled 
look  came  into  her  eyes. 

"  Why,  it  is  Barbara !  It  is  like  Barbara,"  she 
added. 


284  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

"And  what  do  you  think  of  this  —  and  this  — 
and  this  ?  "  asked  Malcom,  rapidly  turning  from 
the  wall  study  after  study. 

After  a  few  moments  of  silence,  she  said 
solemnly :  "  They  're  all  Barbara.  Here  she  is 
thinking  earnestly ;  here  she  is  throwing  her 
head  proudly  back,  as  she  so  often  does ;  and 
here  she  is  merry  and  smiling  in  her  own  ador- 
able way.  O  you  darling  Barbara ! "  with  a 
pathetic  little  catch  of  the  breath ;  "  how  are 
you  feeling  just  this  minute?"  and  Bettina  sank 
upon  the  floor  beside  the  pictures,  looking  as  if 
she  longed  to  hug  them  all. 

"  But  what  does  it  mean  ?  "  persisted  Malcom. 

"What  do  yon  mean?"  springing  up  with  a 
quick  look  into  his  eyes.  "  You  —  foolish  — 
boy !  "  as  an  inkling  of  Malcom's  meaning  crept 
into  her  mind. 

"  What  does  it  mean,  Betty  Burnett,  that  my 
uncle  has  had  nothing  better  to  do  when  he  has 
so  zealously  labored  up  here,  than  to  paint  your 
sister's  face  in  every  conceivable  way  ? "  slowly 
and  impressively  asked  Malcom,  as  he  put  still 
another  tell-tale  sketch  over  that  on  the  easel. 

"You  do  not  really  mean!  —  it  can't  be! — • 
Oh !  "  uttered  Bettina  in  diverse  tones  and  inflec- 
tions as  she  rapidly  recalled,  one  after  another, 
certain  incidents. 


ROBERT  SUMNER  IS  IMPRUDENT.       285 

Then  there  was  silence  in  Robert  Sumner's 
studio  between  these  two  discoverers  of  his  long- 
cherished  secret. 

"  Malcom,"  at  length  whispered  Bettina,  "  we 
must  never  breathe  one  word  about  what  we  have 
found  here.  You  must  not  tell  Margery  or  your 
mother.  Promise  me  that  it  shall  be  a  solemn 
secret  between  you  and  me." 

"  I  promise,  Lady  Betty.  Your  behest  shall 
be  sacredly  regarded,"  replied  Malcom  with  mock 
gravity.  "But,"  after  a  little,  "shall  you  tell 
Barbara  ? " 

"Tell  Barbara?  No!  no!  How  could  I  tell 
her!  Malcom,  don't  you  know  that  it  is  only 
by  a  chance  that  we  have  found  these  pictures  ? 
That,  whatever  they  may  mean  is  absolutely 
sacred  to  your  uncle  ?  Perhaps  they  mean  noth- 
ing —  nothing  save  that  he,  from  an  artist's 
stand-point,  admires  my  sister's  face.  Indeed,  the 
more  I  think  of  it,  the  more  I  am  inclined  to 
believe  that  is  all,"  she  persisted,  as  she  saw 
Malcom's  expressive  shrug  and  the  comical  look 
in  his  eyes  as  he  moved  them  slowly  along  the 
half-dozen  sketches  that  were  now  standing  in  a 
row. 

"  And  I  shall  think  no  more  about  it,"  she 
a.dded,  "  and  advise  you  to  do  the  same." 

Bettina,  who  was   usually  so  gentle,  could   be 


286  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

prettily  imperious  when  she  chose.  And  now, 
wrought  up  by  Malcom's  reference  to  Barbara 
and  her  own  fast  crowding  thoughts,  her  voice 
took  on  this  tone,  and  she  turned  with  high 
head  to  leave  the  studio. 

"  Betty !  Betty !  "  pleaded  Malcom,  running  after 
her.  "  Why,  Betty  !  "  and  the  surprised,  pained 
tone  of  his  voice  instantly  stopped  her  on  the 
staircase. 

"  I  do  not  mean  anything  disagreeable,  Mal- 
com," she  conceded,  "only  I  could  not  bear  to 
have  anything  said  about  Barbara  or  to  Bar- 
bara, that  might  in  any  way  disturb  her.  That 
is  all,  —  forgive  me,  Malcom."  And  the  two 
friends  clasped  hands. 

Malcom  went  back  into  the  studio,  his  pursed 
lips  emitting  a  low,  meditative  whistle,  while 
Bettina  hurried  downstairs,  her  mind  beset  with 
conjectures. 

It  was  not  Mr.  Sumner  of  whom  she  was  think- 
ing, but  her  sister.  A  veil  seemed  to  withdraw 
before  her  consciousness,  and  to  reveal  the  pos- 
sible meaning  of  much  that  had  perplexed  her 
during  the  past  months.  For  if  Mr.  Sumner  had 
really  been  learning  to  love  Barbara,  might  it 
not  also  be  that  Barbara  cared  more  for  him 
than  Bettina  had  been  wont  to  think  ? 

Her  thoughts  wept  back  to  many  of  their  first 


ROBERT    SUMNER    IS    IMPRUDENT.  28/ 

conversations  after  coming  to  Florence ;  to  Bar- 
bara's intense  absorption  in  Mr.  Sumner's  talks 
about  the  old  painters;  to  her  unwearied  study 
of  them ;  to  her  evident  sympathy  with  him  on 
all  occasions. 

Then,  in  a  flash  she  remembered  her  faintness 
in  the  carriage  on  the  drive  to  Sorrento  and  con- 
nected it,  as  she  had  never  before  dreamed  of  do- 
ing, with  the  conversation  then  going  on  ;  and* 
recalled  all  those  days  since  when  she  had  been  so 
different  from  the  old-time  Barbara. 

And  poor  Bettina  sat,  a  disconsolate  little  figure, 
before  her  half-filled  trunk,  just  ready  to  cry  with 
sheer  vexation  at  her  blindness.  Then,  the 
thought  came  that  if  Mr.  Sumner  did  really  love 
Barbara  all  would  be  well.  But,  alas  !  the  doubt 
followed  whether,  after  all,  the  pictures  meant 
anything  more  than  the  artist's  love  for  a  beautiful 
face,  and  his  desire  to  render  it  on  his  canvas. 
She  grew  more  and  more  miserable  in  her  sympa- 
thy for  her  sister,  and  at  her  enforced  separation 
from  her,  and  the  hours  of  that  day,  though  of 
necessity  busy  ones,  seemed  almost  interminable. 

The  following  noon  found  them  together  again. 

Bettina  entered  her  sister's  room,  which  opened 

full  upon  the  rose-garden  they  had  enjoyed  before, 

—  now  filled  with  blossoms  and    fragrance,  —  to 

find  Barbara  sitting  in  a  big  easy-chair,  with  a  tray 


288  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

before  her,  on  which  were  spread  toast  and  tea, 
flanked  by  a  dainty  flask  of  Orvieto  wine,  while  the 
same  wrinkled  old  chambermaid  who  had  served 
them  two  and  a  half  months  ago  stood,  with  beam- 
ing face,  watching  her  efforts  to  eat. 

Barbara's  eyes  were  brighter,  the  flush  gone 
from  her  face,  and  she  said  she  did  not  feel  like 
the  same  girl  who  had  been  half  carried  away  from 
•the  hotel  in  Rome  the  morning  before.  So  much 
improved  did  she  seem  that  the  present  plan  was 
to  take  a  late  afternoon  train  for  Florence,  for  Mr. 
Sumner  said  the  sooner  they  could  get  farther 
north,  the  better  it  would  be.  This  was  carried 
out,  and  night  found  them  back  in  the  dear  Flor- 
ence home,  there  to  spend  a  few  days. 

The  city  was  very  lovely  in  its  May  foliage  and 
blossoms,  —  too  lovely  to  leave  so  soon,  they  all 
averred.  But  it  must  be,  and  after  having  taken 
again  their  favorite  drives,  and  having  given  an- 
other look  at  their  favorite  pictures,  with  an 
especial  interest  in  those  by  the  Venetian  masters 
whom  they  would  study  more  fully  in  Venice,  they 
turned  their  faces  northward. 

The  journey  at  first  took  them  through  rich 
Tuscan  plains,  and  later  through  wild,  picturesque 
ravines  of  the  Apennines.  Higher  and  higher  the 
railway  climbed,  threading  numberless  tunnels,  and 
affording  magnificent  views  as  it  emerged  into 


ROBERT    SUMNER    IS    IMPRUDENT.  289 

opening  after  opening,  until  finally  it  passed  under 
the  height  that  divides  the  watershed  of  the  Adri- 
atic and  Tyrrhenian  seas,  and  entered  the  narrow 
and  romantic  valley  of  the  Reno.  Not  long  after 
they  were  in  the  ancient  city  of  Bologna.  After 
a  few  minutes  in  their  several  rooms,  all  gathered 
in  the  loggia  of  their  hotel,  which  commanded  a 
grand  survey  of  the  city. 

"  How  fine  this  air  is  after  our  long,  dusty 
ride  !  "  exclaimed  Margery,  tossing  back  her  curls 
to  catch  the  breeze. 

"  I  did  not  expect  to  find  Bologna  so  curiously 
beautiful,"  said  Bettina,  after  she  had  seen  that 
Barbara  was  comfortable  in  the  big  chair  Malcom 
had  wheeled  out  for  her  —  for  she  was  still  languid 
from  her  recent  illness,  and  tired  easily. 

"  Please  tell  us  something  about  it,  uncle,"  said 
Malcom.  "  I  am  afraid  I  have  not  looked  it  up 
very  thoroughly." 

So  Mr.  Sumner  told  them  many  interesting 
things  about  the  old  city,  —  and  how  it  had  figured 
largely  in  Italian  history  from  the  Punic  wars  soon 
after  Christ,  down  to  the  middle  of  the  present 
century,  when  it  finally  became  a  part  of  United 
Italy. 

"What  about  the  university  ?  "  queried  Malcom 
again. 

"  It  has  had  a  grand  reputation  for  about  four- 


2QO  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

teen  centuries,  and  thus  is  among  the  most  ancient 
existing  seats  of  learning  in  Christendom.  During 
the  Middle  Ages  students  came  to  it  from  all  parts 
of  northern  Europe." 

Bettina  laughed.  "  I  read  a  curious  thing  about 
it  in  my  guide-book,"  said  she.  "  That  it  has  had 
several  women  professors ;  and  one  who  was  very 
beautiful  always  sat  behind  a  curtain  while  she 
delivered  her  lectures.  This  was  in  the  fourteenth 
century,  I  believe." 

"  A  wise  precaution,"  exclaimed  Malcom,  with  a 
quizzical  look.  "  Even  I  sometimes  forget  what  a 
pretty  woman  is  saying,  because  my  thoughts  are 
wandering  from  the  subject  to  her  face.  And  the 
men  of  those  times  could  not  have  had  the  constant 
experience  we  of  this  century  in  America  have." 

"  Don't  be  silly,"  smiled  Bettina ;  and  Mrs.  Doug- 
las, slipping  her  hand  through  Malcom's  arm, 
asked :  "  Do  you  see  those  towers  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and  uncle,  I  remember  you  spoke  of  the 
leaning  towers  of  Bologna  when  we  were  at  Pisa ; 
what  about  them  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  simply  said  that  since  I  had  seen 
these  towers,  I  have  believed  that  the  one  at  Pisa 
had  been  intentionally  built  in  the  way  it  now 
stands.  My  reason  is  that  in  all  probability  one 
of  these  was  purposely  so  built." 

"  Which  was  erected  first  ?  " 


ROBERT    SUMNER    IS    IMPRUDENT.  29! 

"  This,  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  years." 

"  Let  us  go  and  see  them  at  once  !  "  exclaimed 
Malcom.  "  There  is  time  to  give  a  good  long  look 
at  the  city  before  dinner." 

"  That  is  a  good  plan,"  said  his  mother,  "  and 
we  will  not  go  to  the  picture-gallery  until  to-morrow 
morning.  Then  Barbara  will  be  fresh,  and  can 
enjoy  it  with  the  rest  of  us." 

Mr.  Sumner  turned  solicitously  toward  Barbara, 
with  a  movement  as  if  to  go  to  her,  but  her  hastily 
averted  eyes  checked  him,  and  with  an  inward 
sigh,  he  went  to  order  carriages  for  the  proposed 
drive.  He  had  grown  to  believe  during  the  past 
week  or  two  that  Barbara  had  divined  his  love  for 
her,  and  that  the  knowledge  was  very  painful. 

"  I  must  have  thoughtlessly  disclosed  it,"  said 
he  to  himself.  "  It  has  become  so  much  a  part  of 
my  every  thought.  The  best  thing  I  can  do  now 
is  to  convince  her  that  it  shall  never  cause  her  the 
slightest  annoyance;  that  it  shall  not  change  the 
frankly  affectionate  relations  that  have  heretofore 
existed  between  us.  She  is  so  young  she  will 
forget  it  as  she  grows  stronger,  or  perhaps  I  can 
make  her  feel  that  she  has  mistaken  me.  Then 
she  will  be  my  little  friend  again." 

The  drive  was  thoroughly  delightful.     Bologna 

.  possesses  many  individual   characteristics.      The 

very  narrow  streets,  the  lofty  arcades  that  stretch 


BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

along  on  either  side  of  them,  the  many  venerable 
churches  and  palaces,  the  quaintly  picturesque 
towers,  kept  them  exclaiming  with  pleasure. 

"  Can  we  not  walk  to  the  Academy  ? "  asked 
Margery,  the  next  morning.  "  I  do  so  wish  to 
walk  through  some  of  these  dear  arcades." 

So  Barbara  drove  with  Mrs.  Douglas,  and  the 
others  walked  right  through  the  heart  of  the  old 
city,  whose  streets  have  echoed  to  the  footfalls  of 
countless  and  diverse  people  through  a  number 
of  centuries  that  sounds  appalling  to  American 
ears. 

Arrived  at  the  picture-gallery,  Mr.  Sumner  told 
them  that  though  not  of  very  great  importance 
when  compared  with  many  which  they  had  visited, 
it  yet  is  very  interesting  on  account  of  its  collection 
of  the  works  of  the  most  noted  seventeenth-cen- 
tury Italian  painters  ;  especially  those  belonging  to 
the  Bolognese-eclectic  school,  which  was  founded 
by  the  Carracci. 

"  Nowhere  else  can  these  men,  the  Carracci,  be 
studied  as  here  in  Bologna,  where  they  founded 
their  art-school  just  at  the  close  of  the  sixteenth 
century.  There  are  also  some  very  good  exam- 
ples of  the  work  of  Domenichino,  Guido  Reni, 
Albani,  and  other  famous  pupils  of  the  Carracci. 
You  saw  fine  frescoes  by  Domenichino  and  Guido 
Reni  in  Rome  and  Naples,  and  I  am  sure  you 


ROBERT   SUMNER   IS    IMPRUDENT.  293 

remember  perfectly  Domenichino's  Communion  of 
St.  Jerome  in  the  Vatican  Gallery. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  continued,  with  an  inquiring 
look,  "you  know  the  principle  on  which  this 
school  of  painting  was  founded,  and  which  gave 
it  its  name." 

Bettina  answered  :  "  I  think  they  tried  to  select 
the  best  pictures  from  all  other  schools  and  em- 
body them  in  their  own  pictures.  I  do  not  think," 
she  added,  with  something  of  a  deprecatory  look, 
"  that  it  can  be  .called  a  very  original  style." 

"  Few  styles  of  painting  after  the  earliest 
masters  can  be  called  original,  can  they  ? "  replied 
Mr.  Sumner,  with  a  smile.  "One  great  lack  of 
the  human  race  is  a  spirit  of  originality.  We  all 
go  to  those  who  have  thought  and  wrought  before 
us,  and  hash  and  rehash  their  material.  But  few 
tell  what  they  are  doing  so  plainly  as  did  the 
Carracci.  The  one  great  want  in  their  painting 
is  that  of  any  definite  end  or  aim." 

"  Whom  do  you  call  the  greatest  painters  of  the 
school,  uncle  ? "  asked  Malcom,  as  they  entered 
a  large  hall  opening  from  the  corridor  in  which 
they  had  been  standing. 

"  Guido  Reni  and  Domenichino  merit  that 
honor,  I  think.  Domenichino  died  young,  but 
painted  some  excellent  pictures,  notably  the  St. 
Jerome.  Guido  Reni  lived  long  enough  to  outlive 


294  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

his  good  painting,  but  among  his  early  works  are 
some  that  may  really  be  called  the  masterpieces 
of  this  school;  such  as  the  Aurora  and  the  St. 
Michael  which  you  saw  in  Rome." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  his  outliving  his  good 
painting?"  asked  Margery. 

"  He  grew  most  careless  in  his  ways  of  living,  — 
was  dissipated  we  should  call  it,  —  squandered  his 
money,  and  finally,  in  order  to  gain  the  where- 
withal for  daily  life,  used  to  paint  by  order  of 
those  who  stood  waiting  to  take  his  pictures  with 
paint  still  wet,  lest  the  artist  should  cheat  them. 
To  this  we  owe  the  great  number  of  his  worthless 
Madonna  and  Magdalen  heads  that  have  found 
their  way  into  the  galleries." 

"  How  perfectly  dreadful,"  chorused  all. 

"  I  am  afraid  we  shall  never  see  one  of  his 
pictures  without  thinking  of  this,"  said  Bettina; 
"shall  we,  Barbara?"  and  she  turned  to  her 
sister,  who  had  been  silent  hitherto,  as  if  longing 
to  hear  her  talk. 

"  Try  to  forget  it  now  as  you  look  at  these 
paintings,  for  this  room  contains  many  of  his," 
continued  Mr.  Sumner,  after  waiting  a  moment 
as  if  to  hear  Barbara's  answer,  "  and  they  are 
examples  of  his  early  work,  and  so  stronger  than 
many  others.  Notice  the  powerful  action  of  this 
Samson  and  the  St.  John  in  that  Crucifixion. 


ROBERT   SUMNER    IS    IMPRUDENT.  2Q5 

"Here  are  good  examples  of  the  work  of  the 
three  Carracci,"  continued  he,  as  after  a  time  they 
entered  the  adjoining  hall. 

"  But  what  does  this  mean  ?  "  cried  Malcom, 
in  an  astonished  voice,  pausing  before  a  large 
picture,  the  Communion  of  St.  Jerome,  which  bore 
the  name,  Agostino  Carracci.  "  How  like  it  is  to 
Domenichino's  great  picture  in  the  Vatican  !  Do 
you  suppose  Domenichino  borrowed  so  much  from 
his  master  ?  " 

"  I  fear  so.  Yet  his  picture  is  infinitely  supe- 
rior to  this.  And,  look,  here  is  Domenichino's 
Death  of  St.  Peter,  Martyr,  which  was  borrowed 
largely  from  Titian's  famous  picture  of  the  same 
subject,  which  has  unfortunately  been  destroyed." 

"  But  don't  you  call  that  a  species  of  plagiar- 
ism ? "  queried  Malcom. 

"  Undoubtedly  it  is.  I  must  confess  I  am  al- 
ways sorry  for  Domenichino  when  I  come  into 
this  hall.  But  we  will  pass  on  to  better  things.  I 
wish  you  to  study  particularly  these  pictures  by 
Francia,"  said  he,  as  they  entered  a  third  hall. — 
"  Yes,  Betty,  you  are  excusable.  You  all  may 
look  first  at  Raphael's  St.  Cecilia,  for  here  it  is." 

All  gathered  about  the  beautiful,  famous  picture. 

"  How  much  larger  than  I  have  ever  thought !  " 
said  Margery.  "  For  what  was  it  painted,  uncle  ? " 

"As    an    altar-piece    for     one    of     the    oldest 


296  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

churches  in  Bologna.  Do  you  recollect  the  story 
about  Raphael's  writing  to  Francia  to  oversee 
its  proper  and  safe  placing  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  do !  "  exclaimed  Barbara,  as  Margery 
shook  her  head.  "  It  was  said  that  Francia  never 
painted  again,  so  overcome  was  he  by  the  sur- 
passing loveliness  of  Raphael's  picture,  and  that 
he  died  from  the  effect  of  this  feeling,  —  but," 
she  went  on  impetuously,  "  I  do  not  believe  it ; 
for  see  there ! "  pointing  to  Francia's  Madonna 
with  Sts.  John  and  Jerome,  "  do  you  think  that 
the  artist  who  painted  this  picture  is  so  very  far 
behind  even  Raphael  as  to  die  of  vexation  at 
the  difference  between  them  ?  " 

Barbara  was  so  carried  away  by  the  picture 
that  she  had  forgotten  herself  entirely,  and 
spoke  with  her  old-time  frank  eagerness,  thereby 
thoroughly  delighting  Bettina  and  Mr.  Sumner. 

"  I  am  glad  you  feel  so,"  said  the  latter,  very 
quietly,  and  with  a  strictly  impersonal  manner. 
"  Francia,  who  belonged  to  the  old  Bolognese 
masters  of  the  sixteenth  century,  was  one  of  the 
most  devout  of  painters,  and  everybody  who 
studies  his  work  must  love  it.  See  how  pure 
and  sweet  are  his  expressions  !  How  simple  his 
composition !  What  harmony  is  in  his  coloring ! 
How  beyond  those  who  painted  after  him  !  " 

They   tarried   long   before   Francia's   paintings 


SAINT  CECILIA. 


ROBERT    SUMNER    IS    IMPRUDENT. 

and  the  S/.  Cecilia.  Mr.  Sumner  told  them  to 
note  the  more  subtle  motif  of  Raphael's  picture ; 
the  superior  grace  of  the  figures,  their  careful 
distribution,  and  the  fine  scheme  of  color;  the 
sympathetic  look  in  St.  John's  face ;  the  grandly 
meditative  St.  Paul. 

"  I  have  a  theory  of  my  own  about  the  mean- 
ing of  this  picture,"  said  Bettina.  "  I  thought  it 
out  one  day  when  I  was  studying  the  photo- 
graph. I  know  it  is  always  said,  in  descriptions 
of  it,  that  all  are  listening  to  the  music  of  the 
angels,  but  I  do  not  think  any  of  them  save  St. 
Cecilia  hear  the  music  of  the  angelic  choir.  She 
hears  it,  because  she  has  so  longed  for  it,  —  so 
striven  to  produce  the  highest  music  on  earth. 
But  the  others  are  only  moved  by  their  sym- 
pathy with  her.  See  the  wistful  look  on  St. 
John's  face,  and  St.  Augustine's  also.  And  St. 
Paul  is  lost  in  wondering  thought  at  St.  Cecilia's 
emotion.  And  Mary  Magdalene  is  asking  us 
to  look  at  her  and  try  to  understand  her  rapt 
upward  look." 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  Mr.  Sumner,  with  a 
soft  look  in  his  eyes,  "  why  you  should  not  have 
your  own  private  interpretation  of  the  picture, 
dear  '  Lady  Betty  ' ; "  and  he  smiled  at  Malcom 
as  he  used  the  latter's  favorite  appellation  for 
"Bettina. 


Chapter  XVIII. 
In  Venice. 


From  the  land  ive  "went 
At  to  a  floating  city  —  steering  int 
And  gliding  up  her  ttreett  as  in  a  dream 
By  many  a  pile  in  more  than  eastern  pride, 
Of  old  the  residence  of  merchant-kings  : 
The  fronts  of  some,  tbo1  time  bad  shattered  them, 
Still  gleaming  luitb  the  richest  hues  of  art, 
As  though  the  wealth  -within  them  bad  run  o'er. 


—  ROGERS. 


t 


SAN     MARCO,    VENICE. 


JUST  after  sunset  the  following  evening  they 
approached  Venice.  The  long  black  train 
glided  along  above  a  sea  flushed  with  purple  and 
crimson  and  gold.  Like  a  mirage  the  fair  city  — 
Longfellow's  "  white  water-lily,  cradled  and  ca- 
ressed"—  arose,  lifting  her  spires — those  "fila- 
ments of  gold  "  — above  the  waters. 

"Can  it  be  real?"  murmured  Bettina.    "It  seems 
as  if  all  must  fade  away  before  we  reach  it." 

But  in  a  few  minutes  the  faccJiini  seized  their 
hand-luggage,  and  they  alighted  as  at  any  com- 
monplace railway-station.  But  oh  !  the  revelation 
when  they  went  out  upon  the  platform,  up  to  which, 
not  carriages,  but  gondolas  were  drawn,  and  from 
which  stretched,  not  a  dusty  pavement,  but  the 
same  gold  and  crimson  and  purple  of  sky  reflected 
in  the  waters  at  their  feet. 
301 


3O2  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

"  Is  it  true  that  we  are  mortal  beings  still  on  the 
earth,  and  that  we  are  seeking  merely  a  hotel  ? " 
exclaimed  Malcom,  as  they  floated  on  between  two 
skies  to  the  music  of  lapping  oars.  "  Madge,  you 
ought  to  have  some  poetry  to  fit  this." 

"  I  know  enough  verses  about  Venice,"  replied 
Margery,  whose  eyes  were  dancing  with  joyous 
excitement,  and  who  was  trailing  her  little  hot  hand 
through  the  cool  water,  "but  nothing  fits.  Noth- 
ing can  fit ;  for  who  could  ever  put  into  words  the 
beauty  of  all  this  ? " 

By  and  by  they  left  the  Grand  Canal,  passed 
through  narrower  ones,  with  such  high  walls  on 
either  side  that  twilight  rapidly  succeeded  the  sun- 
set glow ;  floated  beneath  the  Bridge  of  Sighs,  and 
were  at  the  steps  of  their  hotel. 

The  next  few  days  were  devoted  wholly  to  drink- 
ing in  the  spirit  of  Venice.  Mr.  Sumner  hired 
gondolas  which  should  be  at  the  service  of  his 
party  during  the  month  they  were  to  spend  there, 
and  morning,  noon,  and  night  found  them  revelling 
in  this  delight.  They  went  to  San  Marco  in  early 
morning  and  late  afternoon ;  fed  the  pigeons  in 
the  Piazza ;  ate  ice-cream  under  its  Colonnade ; 
went  to  the  Lido,  and  floated  along  the  Grand 
Canal  beside  the  music  and  beneath  the  moonlight 
for  hours  at  night,  and  longed  to  be  there  until 
the  morning. 


IN    VENICE.  3O3 

Barbara  grew  stronger,  the  color  returned  to 
her  cheeks,  and  though  she  often  felt  unhappy,  she 
was  better  able  to  conceal  it.  She  began  to  hope 
that  her  secret  was  safe ;  that  it  would  never  be 
discovered  by  any  one ;  that  Mr.  Sumner  would 
never  dream  of  it.  If  only  that  dreadful  sugges- 
tion of  Malcom's  might  be  wholly  without  founda- 
tion ;  and  perhaps,  after  all,  it  was.  She  thought 
she  would  surely  know  when  Lucile  Sherman 
should  come  to  Venice,  as  she  would  do  soon. 

At  length  Mr.  Sumner  suggested  that  they  be- 
gin to  study  Venetian  painting,  and  that,  for  it, 
they  should  first  visit  the  Accademia  delle  Belle 
Arti.  He  advised  them  to  read  what  they  could 
about  early  Venetian  painting. 

"You  will  find,"  he  said,  "that  the  one  strongest 
characteristic  of  all  the  painting  that  has  ema- 
nated from  Venice  is  beauty  and  strength  of  color, 
the  keynote  of  which  seems  to  have  been  struck 
in  the  first  mosaic  decorations  of  San  Marco,  more 
than  eight  centuries  ago.  And  how  could  it  be 
otherwise  in  a  city  so  flooded  with  radiance  of 
color  and  light ! " 

"  I  have  brought  you  here,"  said  he  one  morning, 

as  they  left   their   gondolas  at  the   steps  of   the 

Academy,  "for  the  special   study  of   Carpaccio's 

and  the  Bellinis'  works. 

*  "  But,"  he  added,  as  they  entered  the  building 


304  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

and  stepped  into  the  first  room,  "  I  would  like 
you  to  stop  for  a  few  minutes  and  look  at  these 
quaint  pictures  by  the  Vivarini,  Basaiti,  Bissolo, 
and  others  of  the  early  Venetian  painters.  Here 
you  will  notice  the  first  characteristics  of  the 
school.  This  academy  is  particularly  interesting  to 
students  of  Venetian  art,  because  it  contains  few 
other  than  Venetian  paintings." 

Passing  on,  they  soon  reached  a  hall  whose  walls 
were  lined  with  large  pictures.  Here  Mr.  Sumner 
paused,  saying :  — 

"  We  find  in  this  room  quite  a  number  of  paint- 
ings by  Vittore  Carpaccio.  Here  is  his  most  noted 
series,  illustrating  scenes  in  the  legendary  life  of 
St.  Ursula,  the  maiden  princess  of  Brittany,  who, 
with  her  eleven  thousand  companions,  visited  the 
holy  shrines  of  the  old  world  ;  and  on  their  return 
all  were  martyred  just  outside  the  city  of  Cologne. 
You  have  read  the  story,  I  know.  Look  first  at 
the  general  scheme  of  composition  and  color  before 
going  near  enough  to  study  details.  Carpaccio 
had  felt  the  flood  of  Venetian  color,  and  here  we 
see  the  beginnings  of  that  wonderful  richness  found 
in  works  by  the  later  Venetian  masters.  He  was 
a  born  story-teller,  and  delighted  especially  in  tales 
of  a  legendary,  poetic  character.  His  works  pos- 
sess a  peculiar  fascinating  quaintness.  The  formal 
composition,  by  means  of  which  we  see  several 


IN    VENICE.  3O5 

scenes  crowded  into  one  picture ;  the  singular 
perspective  effects;  the  figures  with  earnest  faces 
beneath  such  heavy  blond  tresses,  and  with  their 
too  short  bodies,  enable  us  easily  to  recognize  his 
pictures." 

"  I  think  I  shall  choose  St.  Ursula  to  be  my  pa- 
tron saint,"  said  Margery,  thoughtfully,  after  they 
had  turned  from  the  purely  artistic  study  of  the 
pictures  to  their  sentiment.  "  I  have  read  some- 
where that  she  is  the  especial  patroness  of  young 
girls,  as  well  as  of  those  who  teach  young  girls,— 
so  she  can  rightfully  belong  to  me,  you  see." 

"  What  do  you  think  she  will  do  for  you  ?  "  asked 
Malcom,  with  a  quizzical  smile. 

"  Oh !  I  don't  know.  Perhaps  if  I  think  enough 
about  her  life  I  shall  be  a  better  girl,"  and  the  blue 
eyes  grew  very  earnest. 

"That  is  wholly  unnecessary,  Madge  mm,"  ten- 
derly replied  her  brother. 

"  I  will  tell  you  a  singular  thing  that  I  read  not 
long  ago,"  said  Bettina,  going  over  to  Margery, 
who  was  standing  close  in  front  of  that  sweet 
sleeping  face  of  St.  Ursula  in  one  of  the  pictures. 
"  It  was  in  the  life  of  Mr.  Ruskin.  His  biographer 
says  that  Mr.  Ruskin  is  wonderfully  fond  of  the 
legend  of  St.  Ursula ;  that  he  has  often  come  from 
England  to  Venice  just  to  look  again  on  these  pic- 
tures by  old  Carpaccio ;  that  he  has  thought  so 


306  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

much  about  her  character  that  he  really  is  in- 
fluenced greatly  by  it.  And  he  goes  on  to  say. 
that  some  person  who  has  perhaps  received  a 
calm,  kind  letter  from  Mr.  Ruskin  instead  of  the 
curt,  brusque,  or  impatient  one  that  he  had  looked 
for,  on  account  of  the  irascible  nature  of  the  writer, 
would  be  altogether  surprised  could  he  know  that 
the  reason  of  the  unexpected  quietness  was  that 
Mr.  Ruskin  had  stopped  to  ask  himself,  'What 
would  St.  Ursula  say  ?  What  would  St.  Ursula 
do  ? '  " 

"  I  think  that  is  a  pretty  story  about  Mr.  Ruskin, 
don't  you  ?  "  she  added,  turning  to  Malcom  and  the 
others. 

"  It  is  a  pretty  enough  story,"  replied  Malcom. 
"  But  I  confess  I  do  not  wish  Madge  always  to 
stop  and  ask  the  mind  of  this  leader  of  the  '  eleven 
thousand  virgins.'  Only  consult  your  own  dear 
self,  my  sister.  You  are  good  enough  as  you  are." 

"  I  think  it  is  the  feminine  quality  in  St.  Ursula's 
ways  of  thought  and  action  that  appeals  so  strongly 
to  Mr.  Ruskin's  rugged  nature,"  replied  Mr.  Sum- 
ner,  in  answer  to  a  rather  appealing  glance  from 
Margery's  eyes.  "The  tale  of  a  gentle  life  influ- 
ences for  good  a  somewhat  embittered,  but  grandly 
noble  man.  As  to  our  little  Madge,"  with  a  smile 
that  drew  her  at  once  close  to  him,  "the  best 
influence  she  can  gain  from  the  old  legend  will 


IN    VENICE.  307 

grow  out  of  the  unwavering  purpose  of  the  saint, 
and  her  inflexibility  of  action  when  once  the  motive 
was  felt  to  be  a  noble  one.  Her  needs  are  not  the 
same  as  are  Mr.  Ruskin's." 

Margery  slipped  her  hand  into  that  of  the  uncle 
who  so  well  understood  her,  and  gave  it  a  tender 
little  squeeze.  As  Mr.  Sumner  turned  quickly  to 
call  attention  to  one  or  two  other  pictures,  with 
different  subjects,  by  Carpaccio,  he  caught  for  an 
instant  the  old-time  sympathetic  look  in  Barbara's 
eyes,  which  gladdened  his  heart,  and  gave  a  new 
ring  to  his  voice. 

"  Here  are  two  or  three  historical  pictures  by 
Carpaccio  and  Gentile  Bellini  that  put  ancient  Ven- 
ice before  our  eyes,  and,  on  this  account,  are  most 
interesting.  Their  color  is  fine,  but  in  all  other 
art  qualities  they  are  weak." 

"  I  must  tell  you,"  he  went  on,  "  about  the  Bellini 
brothers,  Gentile  and  Giovanni.  Their  father,  who 
was  also  an  artist,  came  from  Padua  to  Venice  in 
the  early  part  of  the  fifteenth  century,  bringing  his 
two  young  sons,  both  of  whom  grew  to  be  greater 
painters  than  the  father.  They  opened  a  school, 
and  Giorgione  and  Titian,  who,  you  well  know,  are 
two  supreme  names  in  Venetian  painting,  were 
among  their  pupils.  The  Bellini  paintings  are  the 
natural  precursors  of  the  glory  of  Venetian  art 
"  Even  in  these  historical  paintings  by  Gentile  Bellini 


308  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

we  feel  the  palpitating  sunshine  which  floods  and 
vivifies  the  rich  colors  of  palaces  and  costumes. 
You  can  readily  see  the  difference  between  his 
work  and  that  of  Carpaccio.  While  Carpaccio  has 
treated  the  historic  scene  in  a  poetic  way,  with 
quaint  formality,  Bellini's  picture  is  full  of  truth 
and  detail. 

"  But,"  he  continued,  "  Gentile  Bellini's  work,  as 
art,  fades  in  importance  before  that  of  his  brother, 
Giovanni,  who  gave  himself  almost  wholly  to  reli- 
gious painting.  If  you  will  try  to  shut  your  eyes 
for  a  few  minutes  to  the  other  pictures  about  you, 
I  would  like  to  take  you  immediately  to  one  of  this 
artist's  Madonna  pictures. 

"  And,  by  the  way,"  he  interpolated,  as  they 
walked  straight  on  through  several  rooms,  "  I  am 
delighted  to  see  that  you  have  learned  to  go  into  a 
gallery  for  the  express  study  of  a  few  pictures,  and 
can  refuse  to  allow  your  attention  to  be  distracted 
by  any  others,  however  alluring.  I  am  sure  this 
is  the  only  way  in  which  really  to  study.  Go  as 
often  or  as  seldom  as  you  choose  or  can,  but  always 
go  with  a  definite  purpose,  and  do  not  be  distracted 
by  the  effort  to  see  the  works  of  many  artists  at  a 
single  visit ;  least  of  all,  by  the  endeavor  to  look  at 
all  there  are  about  you.  For  him  who  does  this,  I 
predict  an  inevitable  and  incurable  art-dyspepsia. 
The  reason  of  my  express  caution  now  is  that  I 


IN   VENICE.  309 

am  taking  you  into  the  most  attractive  room  of  the 
gallery,  and  wish  you  to  see  nothing  but  one 
picture. 

"  Here  it  is !  "  and  they  paused  before  a  large 
altar-piece.    "You  at  once  feel  the  unique  character 
of  the  Madonna ;  the  stateliness  of  the  composition, 
the  exquisite  harmony  and  strength  of  the  color.  — 
What  is  it,  Betty  ?  " 

"  I  was  only  whispering  to  Barbara  that  these 
lovely  angels,  with  musical  instruments,  who  are  sit- 
ting on  the  steps  of  the  throne  are  those  that  we 
have  seen  so  often  in  Boston  art-shops." 

"And  they  are  indeed  lovely ! "  replied  Mr. 
Sumner.  "  I  will  allow  you  to  look  at  another  pic- 
ture in  this  room  which  I  had  forgotten  as  we  came 
hither  —  for  it  is  by  Carpaccio  —  turn,  and  look  ! 
this  Presentation  in  the  Temple  !  See  those  musical 
angels  also,  sitting  on  the  steps  of  the  Madonna's 
throne  !  I  am  sure  the  middle  one  is  familiar  to 
you  all,  for  it  is  continually  reproduced,  and  a  great 
favorite.  Of  what  other  painter  do  these  angels 
remind  you  ? " 

"  Of  Fra  Bartolommeo,"  quickly  replied  two  or 
three  voices. 

"And  I  am  sure,"  continued  Mr.  Sumner,  "that 
Fra  Bartolommeo  never  painted  them  until  after  he 
had  visited  Venice,  and  had  learned  from  the  study 
of  these  Venetian  masters  how  great  an  aid  to 


3io  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

'composition  and  what  beautiful  features  in  a  pic- 
ture they  are.  And  Raphael  never  painted  them 
until  he  had  seen  Fra  Bartolommeo's  work. 

"  But  now  look  at  Bellini's  Madonna"  as  he 
turned  again  to  the  picture,  "  for  she  is  as  individ- 
ual as  Botticelli's,  and  is  as  easily  recognizable. 
Note  her  stately  pride  of  beauty,  produced  chiefly 
by  the  way  in  which  her  neck  rises  from  her  shoul- 
ders, and  in  which  her  head  is  poised  upon  it. 
Everything  else,  however,  is  in  perfect  keeping  — 
from  the  general  attitude  and  lifted  hand  to  the 
half-drooping  eyelids.  Of  what  is  she  so  proud  ? 
She  is  holding  her  Child  that  the  world  may  wor- 
ship Him.  Of  herself  she  has  no  thought.  Botti- 
celli's Madonna  is  brooding  over  the  sorrows  of 
herself  and  Son :  Bellini's  is  lost  in  the  noble 
pride  that  He  has  come  to  save  man.  The  color 
of  the  picture  is  wondrously  beautiful. 

"  Please  note  in  your  little  books  this  artist's 
Madonnas  in  San  Zaccaria  and  Church  of  the  Frari, 
and  go  to  see  them  to-morrow  morning  if  you  can ; 
they  are  his  masterpieces.  I  will  not  talk  any 
more  now.  If  you  wish  to  stay  here  longer,  it  will 
be  well  to  go  back  and  look  at  the  very  earliest 
pictures  again,  or  others  that  you  will  find  by  Car- 
paccio  and  the  Bellini  brothers." 

Not  long  after,  they  got  together  one  evening  to 
talk  about  Titian  and  Giorgione.  They  had  seen, 


IN    VENICE.  311 

of  course,  their  pictures  in  the  Florentine  galleries, 
and  Titian's  Sacred  and  Profane  Love  in  the  Bor- 
ghese  Gallery,  Rome ;  and  were  familiar  with  the 
rich  color  and  superb  Venetian  figures  and  faces. 

"  What  a  pity  that  Giorgione  died  so  young ! " 
exclaimed  Margery. 

"  Yes,"  replied  her  uncle.  "  He  would  doubtless 
have  given  to  the  world  many  pictures  fully  equal 
to  Titian's.  Indeed,  to  me,  he  seems  to  have  been 
gifted  with  even  a  superior  quality  of  refinement. 
We  may  see  it  in  the  contrast  between  his  Venus 
in  the  Dresden  Gallery,  whose  photograph  you 
know,  and  Titian's  two  Venuses  in  the  Uffizi,  which 
you  studied  so  carefully  when  in  Florence.  But 
there  are  very  few  examples  of  Giorgione's  paint- 
ings in  existence,  and  critics  are  still  quarrelling 
over  almost  all  that  are  attributed  to  him.  Probably 
the  most  popular  are  the  Dresden  Venus,  which  has 
only  recently  been  rescued  from  Titian  and  given 
to  its  rightful  author,  and  the  Concert,  which  you 
remember  in  the  Pitti  Gallery,  Florence,  about 
which  there  is  considerable  dispute,  some  critics 
thinking  it  an  early  work  by  Titian." 

"  Why  did  the  artists  not  sign  their  pictures  ? " 
rather  impatiently  interrupted  Malcom. 

"  Even  a  signature  does  not  always  settle 
questions,"  replied  his  uncle,  "  for  it  is  by  no 
means  an  unknown  occurrence  for  a  gallery  it- 


312  BARBARAS    HERITAGE. 

self  to  christen  some  doubtful  picture.  But  to 
go  on : — 

"  In  Venice  there  is  but  one  painting  by  Gior- 
gione  which  is  undoubtedly  authentic.  I  will  take 
you  to  the  Giovanelli  Palace,  where  it  is.  It  is  called 
Family  of  Giorgione.  He  was  fond  of  introducing 
three  figures  into  his  compositions,  —  you  remem- 
ber the  Pitti  Concert,  —  there  are  also  three  in  this 
Giovanelli  picture  —  a  gypsy  woman,  a  child,  and 
a  warrior.  The  landscape  setting  is  exceedingly 
beautiful,  and  the  whole  glows  with  Giorgione's 
own  color. 

"  About  Titian,"  continued  he,  "  you  have  read, 
and  can  easily  read  so  much  that  I  shall  not  talk 
long.  His  whole  story  is  like  a  romance;  his 
success  and  fame  boundless  ;  his  pictures  scattered 
among  all  important  galleries." 

"  Has  Venice  a  great  many  ?  "  queried  Malcom. 

"  No,  Venice  possesses  comparatively  few ;  and, 
strangely  enough,  these  are  not  most  characteristic 
of  the  painter.  His  name,  you  know,  is  almost 
indissolubly  connected  with  noble  portraits,  mag- 
nificent mythological  representations,  and  those 
ideal  pictures  of  beautiful  women  of  which  he 
painted  so  many,  and  which  wrought  such  a 
revolution  in  the  character  of  succeeding  art. 
Hardly  any  of  these,  though  so  entirely  in  keep- 
ing with  the  brilliant  city,  are  in  Venice  to-day ; 


IN   VENICE.  313 

we  must  go  elsewhere,  to  Madrid,  to  Paris,  Flor- 
ence, Rome,  Dresden,  and  Berlin  to  find  them. 
One  mythological  picture  only,  Venus  and  Adonis, 
is  in  the  Academy,  and  one  portrait  of  a  Doge, 
doubtfully  ascribed  to  Titian,  is  in  the  Ducal 
Palace." 

"  Then  what  pictures  are  here  ? "  asked  Bet- 
tina,  as  Mr.  Sumner  paused. 

"  His  greatest  religious  paintings,  those  gorgeous 
church  pictures,  most  of  which  were  painted  in 
his  youth,  are  here." 

"  May  I  interrupt  a  moment,"  queried  Barbara, 
"  to  ask  what  you  meant  when  you  said  that  some 
of  Titian's  pictures  wrought  a  revolution  in  art  ?  " 

"This  is  a  good  time  in  which  to  explain  my 
meaning.  Titian's  nature  was  not  devout.  You 
will  see  it  in  every  one  of  these  religious  paintings 
you  are  about  to  study.  The  subjects  seem  only 
pretexts,  or  foundations,  for  the  gorgeous  display 
of  a  rare  artistic  ability.  To  paint  beauty  for 
beauty's  sake  only,  in  form,  features,  costumes,  and 
accessories  was  Titian's  native  sphere,  and  glori- 
ously did  he  fill  it.  In  these  church  pictures,  the 
Madonna  and  Child  are  almost  always  entirely 
secondary  in  interest.  In  many,  the  family  of  the 
donor,  with  their  aristocratic  faces  and  magnificent 
costumes,  and  the  saints  with  waving  banners,  are 
far  more  important.  A  fine  example  of  this  is  the 


314  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Madonna  of  the  Pesaro  family  in  the  Church  of  the 
Frari.  With  such  a  motif  underlying  his  work, 
the  great  painter  fell  easily  into  the  habit  of  por- 
traying ideal  figures,  especially  of  women,  — '  fancy 
female  figures,"  one  writer  has  termed  them,  — 
whose  sole  merit  lies  in  the  superb  rendering  of 
rosy  flesh,  heavy  tresses  of  auburn  hair,  lovely 
eyes,  and  rich  garments.  Such  are  his  Flora, 
Vemtses,  Titian  s  Daughter —  of  which  there  are 
several  examples  —  Magdalens,  etc. ;  together  with 
many  so  called  portraits,  such  as  his  La  Donna 
Bella  in  the  Pitti,  Florence. 

"Titian  could  paint  such  pictures  so  free  from 
coarseness,  so  magnificent  in  all  art  qualities,  that 
the  world  was  delighted  with  them.  After  him, 
however,  the  lowered  aim  had  its  influence ;  poorer 
artists  tried  to  follow  in  his  footsteps,  and  the 
world  of  art  soon  became  flooded  with  mediocre 
examples  of  these  meaningless  pictures.  All  this 
hastened  rapidly  the  decay  of  Italian  art. 

"  But  you  must  remember,"  Mr.  Sumner  hast- 
ened to  say,  as  he  watched  the  faces  about  him, 
"  that  I  am  giving  you  my  own  personal  thoughts. 
To  me,  the  purity  of  sentiment  and  the  lofty  motif 
of  a  picture  mean  so  much  that  they  always  influ- 
ence my  judgment  of  it.-  With  many  other  people 
it  is  not  so.  They  revel  in  the  color,  the  line,  the 
tone,  the  grouping,  the  purely  art  qualities.  In 


IN    VENICE.  315 

these  Titian,  as  I  have  said,  is  perfect,  and  worthy 
of  the  high  place  he  holds  in  the  art-world. 

"  I  hope  you  will  take  great  pains  to  study  him 
here  by  yourselves,  —  in  the  Academy  and  in  the 
various  churches,  —  wherever  there  are  examples 
of  his  work.  Let  each  form  his  own  judgment, 
founded  on  that  which  he  finds  in  the  pictures. 
The  work  of  any  artist  of  the  High  Renaissance, 
whose  aim  is  purely  artistic,  is  not  difficult  to 
understand.  His  means  of  expression  were  so 
ample  that  it  is  easy  indeed  to  read  that  which 
he  says,  compared  with  the  earlier  masters.  You 
will  find  two  of  Titian's  most  notable  pictures  in 
the  Academy,  —  the  Assumption  of  the  Virgin,  one 
of  the  few  in  which  the  Madonna  has  due  promi- 
nence, and  which  shows  the  artist's  best  qualities, 
and  Presentation  of  the  Virgin" 

"What  other  Venetian  masters  ought  we  par- 
ticularly to  study?"  asked  Barbara. 

"  Look  out  for  Crivelli's  Madonnas,  and  all  of 
Paul  Veronese's  work.  He  was  really  the  most 
utterly  Venetian  painter  who  ever  lived.  He 
painted  Venice  into  everything :  its  motion,  its 
color,  its  intoxicating  fulness  are  all  found  in  his 
mythological  and  banquet  scenes.  You  will  find 
his  pictures  in  the  Ducal  Palace,  in  the  Academy, 
and  a  fine  series  in  San  Sebastiano,  which  repre- 
sents legendary  scenes  in  the  life  of  St.  Sebastian. 


316  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Go  to  Santa  Maria  Formosa  and  look  at  Palma 
Vecchio's  St.  Barbara,  his  masterpiece.  You  will 
also  find  several  of  this  artist's  pictures  in  the 
Academy  worth  looking  at.  His  style  at  its  best 
is  grand,  as  in  the  St.  Barbara,  but  he  did  not 
always  paint  up  to  it,  by  any  means. 

"  As  to  the  rest,  study  them  as  a  whole.  The 
Venice  Academy  is  an  epitome  of  Venetian  paint- 
ing, from  its  earliest  work  down  through  the  High 
Renaissance  into  the  Decadence.  It  was  full  of 
pure  and  devotional  sentiment,  rendered  with  good, 
oftentimes  rich,  color,  until  after  the  Bellini.  Then 
the  portrayal  of  purely  physical  beauty,  with  refine- 
ment of  line  and  gorgeousness  of  color,  became 
preeminent.  The  works  of  several  artists  of  note, 
Palma  Vecchio,  Palma  Giovine,  Bonifazio  Veronese, 
and  Bordone,  so  resemble  each  other  and  Titian's 
less  important  works,  that  there  has  been  much 
uncertainty  as  to  the  true  authorship  of  many  of- 
them." 

"  And  Tintoretto  ? "  questioned  Barbara. 

"I  will  take  you  to  see  Tintoretto's  pictures  — 
or  many  of  them  at  least,"  added  Mr.  Sumner. 
"  He  stands  alone  by  himself." 


Chapter  XIX. 
In  a  Gondola. 


And  on  her  lover's  arm  she  leant, 
And  round  her  waist  she  felt  it  fold, 

And  far  across  the  bills  they  -went 
In  that  neio  land  -which  is  the  old. 

—  TENNYSON. 


--L 


-5~r  =.  •^"-g\:'^***>  •   ' 

gggjTJOINEf  ^^s  '•***-  me  *  •: 


GRAND    CANAL    AND    RIALTO,    VENICE. 


LUCILE  SHERMAN,  accompanied  by  her 
friends,  had  arrived  in  Venice,  and  though  not 
at  the  same  hotel,  yet  she  spent  all  the  time  she  could 
with  Mrs.  Douglas,  and  wished  to  join  her  in  many 
excursions.  She  had  found  it  very  wearisome  to 
tarry  so  long  in  Rome,  but  there  had  been  no 
sufficient  reason  for  following  the  party  to  Florence 
and  on  to  Venice;  therefore  it  had  seemed  the 
only  thing  to  do. 

Now  that  she  was  again  with  them  she  watched 
Mr.  Sumner  and  Barbara  most  zealously.  Her 
quick  eyes  had  noted  .the  altered  condition  of 
affairs  during  the  latter  days  of  the  Naples  journey, 
and  she  was  feverishly  anxious  to  understand  the 
cause.  Her  intuition  told  her  that  there  was  some 
peculiar  underlying  interest  for  each  in  the  other, 
and  when  this  exists  between  a  man  and  woman, 

319 


32O  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

some  sequel  may  always  be  expected.  One  thing 
was  certain;  Mr.  Sumner  covertly  watched  Barbara, 
and  Barbara  avoided  meeting  his  eye.  She  could 
only  wait,  while  putting  forth  every  effort  to  gain 
the  interest  in  herself  she  so  coveted. 

And  Barbara,  of  course,  was  trying  to  determine 
whether  there  was  any  ground  for  the  suspicions, 
or  rather  suggestions,  that  Malcom  gave  voice  to 
on  that  dreadful  ride  to  Sorrento. 

And  Bettina  watched  all  three ;  and  so  did  Mal- 
com, after  a  fashion,  but  he  was  less  keenly  inter- 
ested than  the  others.  He  sometimes  tried  to  talk 
with  Bettina  about  the  studio  incident,  but  never 
could  he  begin  to  discuss  Barbara  in  the  slightest 
way  without  encountering  her  sister's  indigna- 
tion. 

Mrs.  Douglas,  who  had  outlived  her  former  wish 
concerning  her  brother  and  Lucile  Sherman,  and 
Margery  were  the  only  ones  who  had  nothing  to 
hide,  and  so  gave  themselves  simply  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  occurrences  of  each  hour. 

"  We  must  begin  to  see  Tintoretto's  paintings," 
said  Mr.  Sumner  at  breakfast  one  fine  morning ; 
"  and,  since  the  sun  shines  brightly,  I  suggest  that 
we  go  at  once  to  the  Scuola  di  San  Rocco,  for  the 
only  time  to  see  the  pictures  there  is  the  early 
morning  of  a  bright  day." 

"  We  must  not  forget  Lucile,"  said  Mrs.  Douglas, 


IN   A    GONDOLA.  321 

with  an  inquiring  look  at  her  brother,  "for  she 
asked  particularly  to  go  there  with  us." 

"  Then  we  must  call  for  her  of  course,"  quietly 
answered  he,  as  all  rose  from  the  table.  "We  will 
start  at  once." 

"  I  do  not  believe,"  said  Bettina,  as  she  and 
Barbara  were  in  their  room  putting  on  their  hats  a 
moment  afterward,  "that  Mr.  Sumner  cares  one 
bit  more  for  Lucile  Sherman  than  for  anybody 
else." 

"  Why  don't  you  think  so  ? "  asked  Barbara,  as 
she  turned  aside  to  find  her  gloves,  which  search 
kept  her  busy  for  a  minute  or  two. 

"  Because  he  never  seems  to  take  any  pains  to 
be  where  she  is  —  he  does  not  watch  for  the  ex- 
pression of  her  eyes  —  his  voice  never  changes 
when  he  speaks  to  her,"  answered  Bettina,  slowly, 
enumerating  some  of  the  signs  she  had  observed 
in  Mr.  Sumner  with  respect  to  Barbara. 

Neither  of  the  girls  stopped  to  think  how  singu- 
lar it  was  that  Bettina  should  have  watched  Mr. 
Sumner  closely  enough  to  make  such  a  positive 
assertion  as  this,  which,  perhaps,  is  a  sufficient 
commentary  on  the  state  of  their  minds  at  this 
time. 

After  a  delightful  half  hour  of  gliding  through 
broad  and  narrow  canals,  they  landed  in  front  of 
$he  Church  of  San  Rocco,  and  passed  into  the  alley- 


322  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

way  from  which  is  the  entrance  of  the  famous 
Scuola.  As  they  stepped  into  its  sumptuous  hall, 
Miss  Sherman  remarked  :  — 

"  I  see  that  Mr.  Ruskin  says  whatever  the  trav- 
eller may  miss  in  Venice,  he  should  give  much 
time  and  thought  to  this  building." 

"  Mr.  Ruskin  has  championed  Tintoretto  with 
the  same  fervor  that  he  has  expended  upon  Tur- 
ner," replied  Mr.  Sumner,  smiling.  "  I  think  we 
should  season  his  judgments  concerning  both 
artists  with  the  'grain  of  salt.' 

"  But,"  continued  he,  as  he  saw  all  were  waiting 
for  something  further,  "there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  Tintoretto  was  a  great  painter  and  a  notable 
man.  To  read  the  story  of  his  life,  —  his  struggles 
to  learn  the  art,  —  his  assurance  of  the  worth  of 
his  own  work,  and  his  colossal  ambitions,  is  as 
interesting  as  any  romance." 

"I  was  delighted,"  interpolated  Malcom,  "with 
the  story  of  his  first  painting  for  this  building, 
and  the  audacity  that  gained  for  him  the  commis- 
sion to  paint  one  picture  for  it  every  year  of  his 
remaining  life. 

"And  here  are  about  fifty  of  them,"  resumed 
Mr.  Sumner,  "in  which  we  may  study  both  his 
strength  and  his  weakness.  No  painter  was  ever 
more  uneven  than  he.  No  painter  ever  produced 
works  that  present  such  wide  contrasts  as  do  his. 


IN    A    GONDOLA.  323 

He  could  use  color  as  consummately  as  Titian  him- 
self, as  we  see  in  his  masterpiece,  The  Miracle  of 
St.  Mark,  in  the  Academy ;  yet  many  of  his  pic- 
tures are  almost  destitute  of  it.  He  could  vie 
with  the  greatest  masters  in  composition ;  yet 
there  are  many  instances  where  he  seems  to  have 
thrown  the  elements  of  his  pictures  wildly  together 
without  a  single  thought  of  artistic  proportions 
and  relations.  In  some  works  he  has  shown  him- 
self a  thorough  master  of  technique ;  in  others 
his  rendering  is  so  careless  that  we  are  ashamed 
for  him.  But  all  this  cannot  alter  the  fact  that  he 
is  surpassingly  great  in  originality,  in  nobility  of 
conception,  and  in  a  certain  poetic  feeling,  —  and 
these  are  qualities  that  set  the  royal  insignia  upon 
any  artist." 

"  I  cannot  help  feeling  the  motion,  the  action,  of 
all  these  wild  figures,"  exclaimed  Bettina,  as  she 
stood  looking  about  in  a  helpless  way.  "  I  seem 
to  be  buffetted  on  all  sides,  and  the  pictures  mix 
themselves  with  each  other." 

"  It  is  no  wonder.  No  painter  was  ever  so  ex- 
travagant as  he  could  be.  There  is  a  headlong 
dash,  an  impetuous  action  in  his  figures  when  he 
wills,  that  remind  us  of  Michael  Angelo ;  but  Tin- 
toretto's imagination  far  outran  that  of  the  great 
Florentine  master.  Yet  there  is  a  singular  sense 
of  reality  in  his  most  imaginative  works,  and  it  is 


324  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

this,  I  think,  that  is  sometimes  so  confusing  and 
overwhelming.  His  paintings  here  are  so  many 
that  I  cannot  talk  long  about  any  particular  one. 
I  will  only  try  to  tell  you  what  qualities  to  look 
for  —  then  you  must,  for  yourselves,  endeavor  to 
understand  and  come  under  the  spell  of  the  per- 
sonality of  the  artist. 

"In  the  first  place,"  he  continued,  "look  for 
power  —  power  of  conception,  of  invention,  and 
of  execution.  For  instance,  give  your  entire 
attention  for  a  few  minutes  to  this  Massacre  of  the 
Innocents.  See  the  perfect  delirium  of  feeling  and 
action  —  the  frenzy  of  men,  women,  and  children. 
Look  also  for  originality  of  invention.  Combina- 
tions and  situations  unthought  of  by  other 
painters  are  here.  There  is  never  even  a  hint  of 
plagiarism  in  Tintoretto's  work.  In  his  own  native 
strength  he  seizes  our  imagination  and,  at  will, 
plays  upon  it.  We  shudder,  yet  are  fascinated." 

"Oh,  uncle!  I  don't  like  it!"  cried  Margery, 
almost  tearfully.  "  I  don't  wish  to  see  any  more 
of  his  pictures,  if  all  are  like  these." 

"  Madge  —  puss,"  said  Malcom,  "  this  is  a  hor- 
rible subject.  Not  all  will  be  like  this." 

"  No,  dear,"  said  her  mother,  sympathizingly, 
"  I  don't  like  it  either.  You  and  I  will  choose 
the  pictures  we  are  to  look  at  long.  There  are 
many  of  Tintoretto's  that  you  will  enjoy,  I  know, 


IN    A    GONDOLA.  325 

—  many  from  which  you  can  learn  about  the 
artist,  as  well  as  from  such  as  these." 

"  We  cannot  doubt  the  dramatic  power  of  Tin- 
toretto, can  we  ? "  asked  Mr.  Sumner,  with  a  sup- 
pressed twinkle  of  the  eye.  "  What  shall  we  look 
for  next  ?  Let  us  ascend  this  beautiful  staircase. 
Now  look  at  this  Visitation.  Is  it  not  truly  fine, 
charming  in  composition,  graceful  in  action,  agree- 
able in  color,  and  true  and  noble  in  expression  ? " 

All  agreed  most  eagerly  with  Mr.  Sumner's 
opinion  of  the  picture.  Then,  turning,  Bettina 
caught  sight  of  an  Annunciation,  and  cried:  — 

"  How  thoroughly  exquisite  !  See  those  lovely 
angels  tumbling  over  each  other  in  their  haste 
to  tell  the  news  to  Mary  !  How  brilliant !  Surely 
Tintoretto  did  not  paint  this  !  " 

"  No.  This  'is  by  Titian  ;  and  it  is  one  of  his 
most  happy  religious  pictures  too.  I  thought  of 
it  as  we  were  coming,  and  am  glad  to  have  you 
see  it.  The  whole  expression  is  admirable ;  and 
the  fulness  of  life  and  joy  —  the  jubilation  —  is 
perfect.  You  can  in  no  way  more  vividly  feel 
the  difference  between  fourteenth-century  painting 
in  Florence,  and  the  sixteenth-century  or  High 
Renaissance  work  in  Venice,  than  by  recalling 
Fra  Angelico's  sweet,  calm,  staid  Annunciations, 
and  contrasting  them  with  this  one." 

"  But  why  do  I  feel  that,  after  all,  I  love  Fra 


326  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Angelico's  better,  and  should  care  to  look  at  them 
of tener  ?"  rather  timidly  asked  Barbara. 

"  I  think,"  replied  Mr.  Sumner,  after  a  little 
pause,  "  that  it  is  because,  in  them,  the  spiritual 
expression  dominates  the  physical.  We  recog- 
nize the  fact  that  the  artist  has  not  the  power 
to  picture  all  that  he  desires  to  express.  His  art 
language  is  weak ;  therefore  there  is  something 
left  unsaid,  and  this  compels  our  attention.  We 
wish  to  understand  his  full  meaning,  so  come  to 
his  pictures  again  and  again. 

"  It  is  this  quality  of  the  fourteenth-century 
painting  that  impelled  the  Pre-Raphaelites,  Ger- 
man and  English,  to  discard  the  chief  motif  of 
the  High  Renaissance,  which  was  to  picture  every- 
thing in  its  outward  perfection.  They  thought 
that  this  very  perfection  of  artistic  expression  led 
to  the  elimination  of  spiritual  feeling." 

"  But  how  can  artists  go  back  now  and  paint 
as  those  did  five  centuries  ago  ? "  queried  Malcom. 
"  Of  course,  if  they  study  methods  of  the  present 
day,  they  must  know  all  the  principles  underlying 
a  true  and  artistic  representation  —  and  it  would 
be  wrong  not  to  practise  them." 

"  You  have  at  once  found  the  weak  point  in 
the  Pre-Raphaelites'  principle  of  work,  Malcom.  It 
is  forced  and  artificial  to  do  that  in  the  nineteenth 
century  which  was  natural  and  charming  in  the 


IN    A    GONDOLA.  327 

fourteenth.  That  which  our  artists  of  to-day  must 
do  if  they  desire  any  reform  is  to  so  fill  themselves 
with  the  comprehension  of  spiritual  things  —  so 
strive  to  understand  the  hidden  beauty  and  har- 
mony and  truth  of  nature  —  that  their  works  may 
be  revelations  to  those  who  do  not  see  so  clearly 
as  do  they.  To  do  this  perfectly  they  must  ever, 
in  my  opinion,  give  more  thought  to  the  thing  to 
be  expressed  than  to  the  manner  of  its  expression ; 
yet  they  must  render  this  expression  as  perfectly 
as  the  present  conditions  allow.  But  I  think  I 
have  talked  before  of  just  this  thing.  And  we 
must  turn  again  to  Tintoretto." 

Not  only  this  forenoon,  but  many  others,  were 
spent  in  the  Scuola  di  San  Rocco  in  the  study  of 
Tintoretto's  paintings.  At  first  they  shuddered 
at  his  most  vivid  representations  of  poor,  sick, 
wretched  beings  that  cover  these  immense  can- 
vases dedicated  to  the  memory  of  St.  Roch,  whose 
life  was  devoted  to  hospital  work ;  then  were 
fascinated  by  the  power  that  had  so  ruthlessly 
portrayed  reality.  They  studied  his  great  Cruci- 
fixion, —  as  a  whole,  in  detailed  groups,  and  then 
its  separate  figures,  —  until  they  began  to  realize 
the  magnitude  of  its  conception  and  rendering. 
Mr.  Sumner  had  said  that  nowhere  save  in  Venice 
can  Tintoretto  be  studied,  and  all  were  anxious  to 
understand  his  work. 


328  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

At  the  Academy,  close  by  Titian's  great  As- 
sumption of  the  Virgin,  they  found  Tintoretto's 
Miracle  of  St.  Mark,  and  saw  how  noble  could  be, 
at  their  best,  his-  composition  and  drawing,  and 
how  marvellous  his  coloring  of  sky,  architecture, 
costume,  and  flesh.  They  went  to  the  various 
churches,  notably,  Santa  Maria  del  Orto,  to  see 
good  examples  of  his  religious  painting  ;  and  to  the 
Ducal  Palace  for  his  many  mythological  pictures, 
and  his  immense  Paradiso.  Finally  they  were 
happy  in  feeling  that  they  could  comprehend,  in 
some  little  degree,  the  spirit  of  this  strange,  power- 
ful artist  and  his  work. 

One  rainy  evening,  toward  the  close  of  their 
stay  in  Venice,  all  sat  in  the  parlor,  discussing  a 
most  popular  novel  recently  published.  It  was 
written  in  an  exceedingly  clever  manner;  indeed, 
possessed  an  unusual  degree  of  literary  merit. 
But  like  many  other  books  then  being  sent  forth, 
the  tale  was  very  sad. 

The  hero,  Richard, — poor,  proud,  and  painfully 
morbid,  —  would  not  believe  it  possible  that  the 
woman  whom  he  passionately  loved,  —  a  woman 
whose  life  was  filled  with  luxury,  and  who  was 
surrounded  by  admirers,  —  could  ever  love  him ; 
and  so  he  went  out  from  her  and  all  the  possi- 
bilities of  happiness,  never  to  know  that  her 
heart  was  his  and  might  have  been  had  for 


IN    A    GONDOLA.  32Q 

the  asking.  The  happiness  of  both  lives  was 
wrecked. 

"  I  think  no  author  ought  to  write  such  a  story," 
said  Mrs.  Douglas,  emphatically.  "  Life  holds  too 
much  that  is  sad  for  us  all  to  justify  the  expendi- 
ture of  so  much  unavailing  sympathy.  The  emo- 
tion that  cannot  work  itself  out  in  action  takes 
from  moral  strength  instead  of  adding  to  it.  It 
is  a  pity  to  use  so  great  literary  talent  in  this 
way." 

"  But  do  not  such  things  sometimes  happen,  and 
is  it  not  a  literary  virtue  to  describe  real  life  ? " 
queried  Barbara,  from  her  corner  amidst  the 
shadows. 

"  Is  it  an  especially  artistic  virtue  to  picture 
deformity  and  suffering  just  because  they  exist  ? 
I  acknowledge  that  a  picture  or  a  book  may  be 
fine,  even  great,  with  such  subjects ;  but  is  it 
either  as  helpful  or  wholesome  as  it  might  have 
been  ?  "  argued  Mrs.  Douglas. 

"  Yet  in  this  book  the  characters  of  both  hero 
and  heroine  grow  stronger  because  of  their  suffer- 
ing," suggested  Bettina. 

"  But  such  an  unnecessary  suffering !  "  rather 
impatiently  asserted  Malcom.  "  If  either  had 
died,  then  the  other  might  have  borne  it  patiently 
and  been  just  as  noble.  But  such  a  blunder!  I 
"threw  the  book  aside  in  disgust,  for  the  author 


33O  BARBARA  S   HERITAGE. 

had   absorbed    me   with   interest,    and    I   was   so 
utterly  disappointed." 

Mr.  Sumner  had  been  reading,  and  had  not 
joined  in  the  conversation,  but  Bettina  thought 
she  saw  some  evidence  that  he  had  heard  it ;  and 
when,  throwing  aside  his  paper,  he  stepped  outside 
on  the  balcony,  she  obeyed  an  impulse  she  could 
never  afterward  explain  to  herself,  and  followed 
him.  Quickly  putting  her  hand  on  his,  she  said, 
with  a  fluttering  heart,  but  with  a  steady  voice  :  — 

"  Dear  Mr.  Sumner,  do  not  do  as  Richard 
did." 

Then  drawing  back  in  consternation  as  she 
realized  what  she  had  done,  she  gasped :  — 

"  Oh,  forgive  me  !     Forget  what  I  have  said  !  " 

She  tried  to  escape,  but  her  hand  was  in  a  grip 
of  iron.  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  Tell  me,  Betty. 
Barbara — "  His  voice  failed,  but  the  passion  of 
love  that  blazed  in  his  eyes  reassured  her. 

"  I  will  not  say  another  word.  Please  let  me  go 
and  never,  never  tell  Barbara  what  I  said ;  "  and  as 
she  wrenched  her  hand  from  him,  and  vanished 
from  the  balcony,  her  smiling  face,  white  amidst 
the  darkness,  looked  to  Robert  Sumner  like  an 
angel  of  hope.  Could  it  be  that  she  intended  to 
give  him  hope  of  Barbara's  love  —  that  sweet 
young  girl  —  when  he  was  so  much  older?  When 
she  knew  that  he  had  once  before  loved  ?  But 


IN    A    GONDOLA.  331 

what  else  could  Betty  have  meant  ?  Had  he  been 
blind  all  this  time,  and  had  Betty  seen  it  ?  A  hun- 
dred circumstances  sprang  into  his  remembrance, 
that,  looked  at  in  the  light  of  her  message,  took  on 
possible  meanings. 

Robert  Sumner  was  a  man  of  action.  As  soon 
as  his  sister  retired  to  her  own  room,  he  followed, 
and  then  and  there  fully  opened  his  heart  to  her. 
He  told  her  all,  from  the  first  moment  when  Bar- 
bara began  to  monopolize  his  thoughts,  and  con- 
fessed his  struggles  against  her  usurpation  of  the 
place  Margaret  had  so  long  held. 

To  say  that  Mrs.  Douglas  was  astonished  does 
not  begin  to  express  the  truth.  She  listened  in 
helpless  wonder.  As  he  went  on,  and  it  became 
evident  to  her  what  a  strong  hold  on  his  affections 
Barbara  had  gained,  the  fear  arose  lest  he  might 
be  on  the  brink  of  a  direful  disappointment.  At 
last,  when  he  ended,  saying,  "  I  shall  tell  her  all 
to-morrow,"  she  could  only  falter  :  — 

"  Is  it  best  so  soon,  Robert  ?  " 

"  Soon  !  "  he  cried.  "  It  seems  as  if  I  have 
waited  years  !  Say  not  one  word  against  it,  sister. 
My  mind  is  made  up !  " 

But  he  could  not  tell  her  the  hope  Bettina  had 
given,  which  was  singing  joyfully  in  his  heart  all 
the  time.  And  so  Mrs.  Douglas  was  tortured  all 
through  the  night  with  miserable  forebodings. 


332  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

The  next  morning  Bettina  was  troubled  at  the 
look  of  resolve  she  understood  in  Mr.  Sumner's 
face,  and  almost  trembled  at  the  thought  of  what 
she  had  done.  "But  I  am  sure  —  I  am  sure,"  she 
kept  repeating,  to  reassure  h,erself. 

A  last  visit  to  the  Academy  had  been  planned 
for  the  afternoon.  They  walked  thither,  as  they 
often  loved  to  do,  through  the  narrow,  still  streets 
and  across  the  little  foot-bridges.'  Mrs.  Douglas, 
with  Margery  and  Miss  Sherman,  arrived  first, 
and,  after  a  few  minutes'  delay,  Bettina  and  Mal- 
com  appeared. 

"  Uncle  Robert  has  taken  a  gondola  to  the 
banker's  to  get  our  letters,  mother,"  said  Malcom, 
in  such  a  peculiar  voice  that  his  mother  gave  him 
a  quick  look  of  interrogation. 

"Where  is  your  sister?"  asked  Miss  Sherman, 
sharply,  turning  to  Bettina  as  Mrs.  Douglas  passed 
into  an  adjoining  room. 

"  Mr.  Sumner  asked  her  to  help  him  get  the  let- 
ters," replied  she,  demurely. 

Miss  Sherman  reddened,  and  Malcom's  eyes 
danced. 

"  How  strange  !  "  said  Margery,  innocently. 

The  pictures  were,  unfortunately,  of  secondary 
interest  to  all  the  group  save  Margery;  and,  as 
Mr.  Sumner  and  Barbara  did  not  return,  they, 
before  very  long,  declared  themselves  tired,  and 


IN    A    GONDOLA.  333 

returned  home.  The  truth  was,  each  one  was 
longing  for  private  thought. 

Meanwhile  Barbara  and  Mr.  Sumner  were  on 
the  Grand  Canal.  The  sun  shone  brightly,  and 
Mr.  Sumner  drew  the  curtains  a  little  closer  to- 
gether to  shield  Babara's  face  and,  perhaps,  his 
own.  The  gondolier  rowed  slowly.  "  Where  to  ? " 
he  had  asked,  and  was  answered  only  by  a  gesture 
to  go  on.  So  on  they  floated. 

Barbara  had  obeyed  without  thought  Mr.  Sum- 
ner's  sudden  request  to  accompany  him.  But  no 
sooner  had  they  stepped  into  the  gondola  than  she 
wished,  oh,  so  earnestly !  that  she  had  made  some 
excuse. 

As  Mr.  Sumner  did  not  speak,  she  tried  to  make 
some  commonplace  remark,  but  her  voice  would 
not  reach  her  lips ;  so  she  sat,  flushed  and  wonder- 
ing, timid  and  silent. 

At  last  he  spoke,  gravely  and  tenderly,  of  his 
early  life,  when  she,  a  little  girl,  had  known  him ; 
of  his  love  and  hope ;  of  his  sorrow  and  tfle 
years  of  lonely  work  in  foreign  lands ;  of  his 
sister's  coming ;  of  his  meeting  with  them  all, 
and  of  how  much  they  had  brought  into  his  life. 
But,  as  he  looked  up,  he  could  not  wait  to  fin- 
ish the  story  as  he  had  planned.  He  saw  the 
sweet,  flushed  face  so  near  him,  the  downcast 
"eyes,  the  little  hand  that  tried  to  keep  from 


334  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

trembling  but  could  not,  and  his  voice  grew  sharp 
with  longing :  — 

"  Barbara !  oh,  little  Barbara !  you  have  made 
me  love  you  as  I  never  have  dreamed  of  love.  Can 
you  love  me  a  little,  Barbara  ?  Will  you  be  my 
wife  ?  "  And  he  held  out  his  hands,  but  dared  not 
touch  her. 

Would  she  never  answer  ?  Would  she  never  lift 
the  eyelids  that  seemed  to  droop  more  and  more 
closely  upon  the  crimson  cheeks  ?  Had  he  fright- 
ened her  ?  Was  she  only  so  sorry  for  him  ?  Was 
Betty  mistaken,  after  all  ? 

But  when,  with  a  voice  already  quivering  with 
apprehension,  he  again  spoke  her  name,  what  a 
revelation  ! 

With  head  thrown  back  and  with  smiling,  though 
quivering,  lips,  Barbara  looked  at  him,  her  eyes 
glowing  with  the  unutterable  tenderness  he  had 
sometimes  dreamed  of.  She  did  not  utter  a  word, 
but  there  was  no  need.  The  whole  flood  of  her 
love,  so  long  repressed,  spoke  straight  to  his  heart. 

The  gondola  curtains  flapped  closer  in  the  breeze. 
The  gondolier  hummed  a  musical  love-ditty,  while 
his  oars  moved  in  slow  rhythm.  It  was  Venice  and 
June. 


Chapter  XX. 
Return  from  Italy. 


To  come  back  from  the  s-weet  South,  to  the  North 

Where  I  "was  born,  bred,  look  to  die  ; 
Come  back  to  do  my  day''!  -work  in  its  day, 

Play  out  my  play  — 
Amen,  amen  say  I. 

—  ROSSETTI. 


MILAN     CATHEDRAL. 


WHEN  Robert  Sumner  and  Barbara  returned, 
they  found  Mrs.  Douglas  alone.  At  the 
first  glance  she  knew  that  all  was  well,  and  re- 
ceived them  with  smiles,  and  tears,  and  warm 
expressions  of  delight. 

In  a  moment,  however,  Barbara  —  her  eyes  still 
shining  with  the  wonder  of  it  all — gently  disen- 
gaged herself  from  Mrs.  Douglas's  embrace  and 
went  in  search  of  her  sister. 

"Aren't  you  thoroughly  astonished,  Betty 
dear?"  she  asked,  after  she  had  told  the  won- 
derful news. 

"  Yes,  Bab  ;  more  than  astonished." 

And  Bettina's  quibble  can  surely  be  forgiven. 
Not  yet  has  she  told  her  sister  of  the  important 
part  played  by  herself  in  bringing  the  love-affair 
to  so  happy  a  consummation ;  nor  has  Robert 

337 


338  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

Sumner  forgotten  her  prayer,  "  never,  never  tell 
Barbara !  " 

When  evening  came  and  Barbara  was  out  on  the 
balcony  with  Mr.  Sumner,  while  the  others  were 
talking  gayly  of  the  happy  event,  Bettina  suddenly 
felt  an  unaccountable  choking  in  the  throat.  She 
hurried  to  her  room,  and  there,  in  spite  of  every 
effort,  had  to  give  up  to  a  good  cry.  She  could 
not  have  told  the  cause,  but  we,  the  only  ones 
beside  herself  who  know  this  pitiful  ending  of 
all  her  bravery,  understand  and  sympathize  with 
her. 

An  hour  later,  when  she  had  conquered  herself 
and  was  coming  slowly  down  the  staircase,  she 
found  Malcom  waiting  to  waylay  her.  Drawing 
her  arm  within  his,  and  merrily  assuming  some- 
thing of  a  paternal  air,  he  said :  — 

"  Now  that  this  little  family  affair  has  reached  a 
thoroughly  satisfactory  culmination,  I  trust  that 
things  will  again  assume  their  normal  appearance. 
For  the  past  month  or  so  Barbara  has  been  most 
distraite ;  uncle  has  so  evidently  tried  to  be  cheer- 
ful that  the  effort  has  been  distressing;  and  you, 
little  Lady  Betty,  have  been  racking  your  precious 
brains  for  a  scheme  to  make  things  better." 

"And  you,  Malcom,"  she  retorted,  "have  had 
so  much  sympathy  with  us  all  that  wrinkles  have 
really  begun  to  appear  on  your  manly  brow." 


RETURN    FROM    ITALY.  339 

And  she  put  up  her  hand  lightly  as  if  to  smooth 
them  away. 

"  Look  out,  Betty ! "  with  a  curious  flash  of 
the  eyes,  as  he  seized  her  hand  and  held  it  tightly. 
"The  atmosphere  is  rather  highly  charged  these 
days." 

Bettina's  face  slowly  flushed  as  she  tried  to 
make  some  laughing  rejoinder,  and  a  strange  pain- 
ful shyness  threatened  to  overtake  her  when  Mal- 
com,  with  a  smile  and  a  steady  look  into  her  eyes, 
set  her  free. 

Meanwhile  Margery  was  saying  to  her  mother:  — 

"  How  pleasant  it  is  to  have  everybody  so 
happy  ! " 

"  Yes,  dear.  Do  you  know  why  I  am  so  very 
happy  ? "  and  as  Margery  shook  her  head,  her 
mother  told  her  that  her  Uncle  Robert  had  decided 
to  go  home  to  America,  and  that  never  again 
would  he  live  abroad. 

"  It  is  more  like  a  story  than  truth.  Uncle  to  go 
home,  and  Barbara  to  be  his  wife !  You  did  not 
think,  did  you,  mamma,  what  would  come  from  our 
year  in  Italy  ?  Just  think  !  Suppose  you  had  not 
asked  Barbara  and  Betty  to  come  with  us !  What 
then  ? " 

"  That  is  too  bewildering  a  question  for  you  to 
'rouble  yourself  with,  my  child.  There  is  no  end 
to  that  kind  of  reasoning. 


34O  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

"And,"  she  added  gently,  "it  is  not  a  question 
that  Faith  would  ask.  The  only  truth  is  that  God 
was  leading  me  in  a  way  I  did  not  know,  and  for 
ends  I  could  not  foresee.  That  which  I  did  from 
a  feeling  of  pure  love  for  my  dear  neighbors  and 
friends  was  destined  to  bring  me  the  one  great 
blessing  I  had  longed  for  during  many  years. 
Oh  !  it  does  seem  too  good  to  be  true  that  Robert 
is  so  happy,  and  that  he  is  coming  home." 

And  for  the  seventieth-times-seven  time  Mrs. 
Douglas  breathed  a  silent  thanksgiving  as  she 
heard  the  approaching  footsteps  of  her  brother. 

For  Barbara  and  Robert  Sumner  the  last  days 
spent  in  Venice  were  filled  with  a  peculiar  joy. 
The  revulsion  of  feeling,  the  unexpected,  despaired- 
of  happiness,  the  untrammelled  intercourse,  the 
full  sympathy  of  those  dear  to  them,  —  all  this 
could  be  experienced  but  once. 

Only  one  person  was  out  of  tune  with  the 
general  feeling.  This  was  Lucile  Sherman.  She 
returned  a  polite  note  in  reply  to  that  which  Mrs. 
Douglas  had  at  once  sent  her  containing  informa- 
tion of  her  brother's  engagement  to  Barbara.  In 
it  she  wrote  that  her  friends  had  very  suddenly 
decided  to  leave  Venice  for  the  Tyrol,  and  she 
must  be  content  to  go  with  them  without  even 
coming  to  say  good-by  and  to  offer,  in  person, 
her  congratulations.  Mrs.  Douglas  at  first  thought 


RETURN    FROM    ITALY.  341 

of  going  to  her,  if  but  for  a  moment ;  then  decided 
that  perhaps  it  would  be  best  to  let  it  be  as  she 
had  so  evidently  chosen. 

In  a  few  days  they  also  left  Venice,  —  for  Milan, 
stopping  on  the  way  for  a  day  or  two  at  Padua. 
They  were  to  visit  this  city  chiefly  for  the  purpose 
of  seeing  Giotto's  frescoes  in  the  Arena  Chapel, 
and  Mantegna's  in  the  Eremitani,  although,  as 
Mr.  Sumner  said,  the  gray  old  city  is  well  worth 
a  visit  for  many  other  reasons.  The  antiquity  of 
its  origin,  which  its  citizens  are  proud  to  refer 
to  Antenor,  the  mythical  King  of  Troy,  accounts 
for  the  thoroughly  venerable  appearance  of  some 
quarters.  It  is  difficult,  however,  to  believe  that 
it  was  ever  the  wealthiest  city  in  upper  Italy,  as  it 
is  reported  to  have  been  under  the  reign  of  Au- 
gustus. During  the  Middle  Ages  it  was  one  of  the 
most  famous  of  European  seats  of  learning.  Dante 
spent  several  years  in  Padua  after  his  banishment 
from  Florence,  and  Petrarch  once  lived  here.  All 
these  things  had  been  talked  over  before  they 
alighted  at  the  station,  and,  driving  through  one 
of  the  gates  of  the  city,  went  to  their  hotel. 

All  were  eager  to  see  whatever  there  was  of  in- 
terest. As  it  would  be  best  to  wait  until  morning  for 
looking  at  the  pictures,  they  at  once  set  forth  and 
walked  along  the  narrow  streets  lined  with  arcades, 
and  through  grassy  II  Prato,  with  its  fourscore  and 


342  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

more  statues  of  Padua's  famous  men  ranged  be- 
tween the  trees.  They  saw  the  traditional  house 
of  Petrarch,  and  that  of  Dante,  in  front  of  which 
stands  a  large  mediaeval  sarcophagus  reported  to 
contain  the  bones  of  King  Antenor,  who,  accord- 
ing to  the  poet  Virgil,  founded  the  city.  They 
admired  the  churches,  from  several  of  which  clus- 
ters of  Byzantine  domes  rise  grandly  against  the 
sky,  noted  the  order,  the  quiet,  that  now  reigns 
throughout  the  streets,  and  talked  of  the  fierce, 
horrible  warfare  that  had  centuries  ago  raged 
there. 

The  next  morning  they  spent  among  Giotto's 
frescoes,  over  thirty  of  which  literally  cover  the 
walls  of  the  Arena  Chapel.  The  return  to  the 
work  of  the  early  fourteenth  century,  after  months 
spent  in  study  of  the  High  Renaissance,  was  like 
an  exchange  of  blazing  noon  sunshine  for  the  first 
soft,  sweet  light  that  heralds  the  coming  dawn. 
They  were  surprised  at  the  freshness  and  purity 
of  color  and  at  the  truth  and  force  of  expression. 
They  had  forgotten  that  old  Giotto  could  paint  so 
well.  They  found  it  easy  now  to  understand  in 
the  artist  that  which  at  first  had  been  difficult. 

"  Do  you  not  think  that  Dante  sometimes  came 
here  and  sat  while  Giotto  was  painting  ?  "  by  and 
by  asked  Margery,  in  an  almost  reverent  voice. 

"  I    do    not   doubt   it,"    replied    Mrs.    Douglas. 


RETURN    FROM    ITALY.  343 

"Tradition  tells  us  that  they  were  great  friends, 
and  that  when  here  together  in  Padua  they  lived 
in  the  same  house.  I  always  think  of  Giotto  as 
possessing  a  jovial  temperament,  and  as  being  full 
of  bright  thoughts.  He  must  have  been  a  great 
comfort  to  the  poor  unhappy  poet.  Without 
doubt  they  often  walked  together  to  this  chapel ; 
and  while  Giotto  was  upon  the  scaffolding,  busy 
with  his  Bible  stories,  Dante  would  sit  here, 
brooding  over  his  misfortunes ;  or,  perhaps,  weav- 
ing some  of  his  great  thoughts  into  sublime 
poetry." 

Afterward  they  went  to  the  Eremitani  to  see 
Mantegna's  frescoes,  and  thought  they  could  see 
in  the  noble  work  of  this  old  Paduan  master  what 
Giotto  might  have  done  had  he  lived  a  century  or 
more  later. 

Mr.  Sumner,  however,  said  that  he  was  sure 
that  Giotto,  with  his  temperament,  could  never 
have  wrought  detail  with  such  exactness  and  re- 
finement as  did  Mantegna  —  but  also,  that  Giotto's 
color  would  always  have  been  far  better  than 
Mantegna's.  The  likeness  between  the  two  artists 
is  the  intense  desire  of  each  to  render  expression 
of  thought  and  feeling. 

The  following  day,  on  their  way  from  Padua  to 
Milan,  they  were  so  fortunate  as  to  be  all  in  the 
same  compartment,  and  as  their  train  rushed  on, 


344  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

their  conversation  turned  upon  Leonardo  da  Vinci, 
whose  works  in  Milan  they  were  longing  to  see. 

During  their  stay  in  Florence  they  had  read 
much  about  this  great  artist,  and  Mr.  Sumner  now 
suggested  that  each  tell  something  he  had  learned 
concerning  him. 

Margery  began,  and  told  how  he  used  always 
to  wear  a  sketch-book  attached  to  his  girdle  as  he 
walked  through  the  streets  of  Florence,  so  that  he 
might  make  a  sketch  of  any  face  whose  expression 
especially  attracted  him ;  how  he  would  invite 
peasants  to  his  studio  and  talk  with  them  and  tell 
laughable  stories,  that  he  might  study  the  changes 
of  emotion  in  their  faces ;  and  how  he  would  even 
follow  to  their  death  criminals  doomed  to  exe- 
cution, in  order  to  watch  their  suffering  and 
horror. 

"  He  did  not  care  much  for  the  form  or  coloring 
or  beauty  of  faces ;  —  only  for  the  expression  of 
feeling,"  she  added. 

"  But,"  said  Malcom,  after  waiting  a  moment  for 
the  others  to  speak  if  they  chose,  "  he  studied  a 
host  of  other  things,  also.  For  in  the  letter  he 
sent  to  Duke  Ludovico  of  Milan  asking  that  he 
might  be  taken  into  his  service,  he  wrote  that  he 
could  make  portable  bridges  wonderfully  adapted 
for  use  in  warfare,  also  bombshells,  cannon,  and 
many  other  engines  of  war;  that  he  could  engineer 


RETURN    FROM    ITALY.  345 

underground  ways,  aqueducts,  etc. ;  that  he  could 
build  great  houses,  besides  carrying  on  works  of 
sculpture  and  painting.  And  there  were  many 
other  things  that  I  do  not  now  remember.  It 
seems  as  if  he  felt  himself  able  to  do  all  things. 
I  believe  he  did  make  a  magnificent  equestrian 
statue  of  the  duke's  father.  And  he  studied  bot- 
any and  astronomy,  anatomy  and  mathematics, 
and  all  sorts  of  things  besides.  I  really  do  not 
see  how  he  could  have  got  much  painting  in." 

"  He  has  left  only  a  very  few  pictures  to  the 
world,"  said  Barbara.  "We  saw  two  or  three  at 
Florence,  but  I  think  only  one  —  that  unfinished 
Adoration  of  the  Magi — is  surely  his.  We  shall 
see  the  Last  Supper  and  Head  of  Christ  at  Milan. 
Then  there  are  two  or  three  in  Paris  and  one  in 
London  I  think  these  are  all,"  and  she  looked 
inquiringly  at  Mr.  Sumner,  who  smilingly  nodded 
confirmation  of  her  words. 

"  But,"  she  went  on,  with  an  answering  smile, 
"  I  do  not  think  this  was  due  to  lack  of  time,  for 
on  these  few  pictures  he  probably  spent  as  much 
time  as  ordinary  artists  do  in  painting  a  great 
many.  He  was  never  satisfied  with  the  result  of 
his  work.  His  aims  were  so  high  and  he  saw  and 
felt  so  much  in  his  subjects  that  he  would  paint 
his  pictures  over  and  over  again,  and  then  often 
destroy  them  because  he  could  not  produce  what 


346  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

he  wished.  I  think  he  was  one  of  the  most 
untiring  of  artists." 

"  I  have  been  especially  interested,"  said  Bettina, 
after  a  minute  or  two,  "  in  the  story  of  the  Last 
Supper  which  we  shall  soon  see." 

She  then  went  on  to  tell  the  sad  tale  of  Beatrice 
d'Este,  —  the  good  and  beautiful  wife  of  harsh, 
wicked  Duke  Ludovico.  How  she  used  to  go 
daily  to  the  church  Santa  Maria  delle  Grazie  to  be 
alone,  —  to  think  and  to  pray  ;  and  how,  after  her 
early  death,  the  duke,  probably  influenced  by 
remorse  because  of  his  cruelty  to  her,  desired 
Leonardo  to  decorate  this  church  and  its  adjoining 
monastery  with  pictures  in  memory  of  his  dead 
young  wife.  The  only  remaining  one  of  these  is 
the  Last  Supper  in  the  refectory  of  the  old  monas- 
tery. And  the  famous  Head  of  Christ,  in  the  Brera 
Gallery,  Milan,  is  only  one  of  perhaps  hundreds  of 
studies  that  he  made  for  the  expression  which  he 
should  give  to  his  Christ  in  the  Last  Supper,  —  so 
dissatisfied  was  he  with  his  renderings  of  the  face 
of  our  Saviour.  And  even  with  his  last  effort  he 
was  not  content,  but  said  the  head  must  ever  go 
unfinished. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  that  this  Head  of 
Christ  was  produced  simply  as  a  study  of  expres- 
sion," remarked  Mr.  Sumner.  "  I  am  sure  this 
fact  is  not  understood  by  many  who  look  upon  it. 


RETURN    FROM    ITALY.  347 

I  know  of  no  other  artistic  representation  in  the 
world  that  is  so  utterly  just  an  expression  and 
nothing  more;  —  a  fleeting  expression  of  some 
inner  feeling  of  which  the  face  is  simply  an  index. 
And  this  feeling  is  the  blended  grief  and  love  and 
resignation  that  filled  the  heart  of  our  Saviour  when 
He  said  to  His  disciples,  '  One  of  you  shall  betray 
me.'  It  is  a  simply  wrought  study,  made  on  paper 
with  charcoal  and  water-color.  The  paper  is  worn, 
its  edges  are  almost  tattered  ;  yet  were  it  given  me 
to  become  the  possessor  of  one  of  the  world's  art- 
treasures  —  whichever  one  I  should  choose  —  I 
think  I  should  select  this.  You  will  know  why 
when  you  see  it." 

"  What  a  pity  that  the  great  picture,  the  Last 
Supper,  is  so  injured,"  said  Malcom,  after  a  pause. 
"  Is  it  as  bad  as  it  is  said  to  be,  uncle  ? " 

"  It  is  in  a  pretty  bad  condition,  yet,  after  all,  I 
enjoy  it  better  than  any  copy  that  has  ever  been 
made.  The  handiwork  of  Leonardo,  though  so 
much  of  it  has  been  lost,  is  yet  the  expression  of  a 
master ;  any  lesser  artist  fails  to  render  the  highest 
that  is  in  the  picture.  Both  the  Duke  and  Leo- 
nardo were  in  fault  for  its  present  condition.  The 
monastery  is  very  low,  and  on  extremely  wet 
ground.  Water  has  often  risen  and  inundated  a 
portion  of  the  building.  It  is  not  a  fit  place  for 
.any  painting,  as  the  Duke  ought  to  have  known. 


348  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

And,  then,  Leonardo,  instead  of  painting  in  fresco, 
used  oils,  and  of  course  the  colors  could  not  adhere 
to  the  damp  plaster ;  so  they  have  dropped  off,  bit 
by  bit,  until  the  surface  is  sadly  disfigured." 

"  Why  did  Leonardo  do  this  ? "  inquired  Margery. 

"  He  was  particularly  fond  of  oil-painting,  be- 
cause this  method  allowed  him  to  paint  over  and 
over  again  on  the  same  picture,  as  he  could  not  do 
in  fresco." 

Mr.  Sumner  looked  out  of  the  window,  and  then 
hastened  to  say  :  — 

"  I  think  you  all  have  learned  that  the  chief 
quality  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci's  work  is  his  render- 
ing of  facial  expression  —  complex,  subtile  expres- 
sion :  yet  he  excelled  in  all  artistic  representation ; 
—  in  drawing,  in  composition,  in  color,  and  in  the 
treatment  of  light  and  shade.  He  easily  stands  in 
the  foremost  rank  of  world  painters.  But,  see !  we 
are  drawing  near  to  Milan, — bright,  gay  little 
Milan,  —  the  Italian  Paris." 

One  day,  soon  after  their  arrival,  as  they  were  in 
the  Brera  Gallery,  looking  for  the  third  or  fourth 
time  at  Leonardo's  Head  of  Christ,  Barbara 
remarked  that  she  was  disappointed  because  she 
could  not  find  any  particular  characteristic  of  this 
great  artist's  work,  as  she  had  so  often  been  able 
to  do  with  others.  "  I  feel  that  I  cannot  yet  recog- 
nize even  his  style,"  she  lamented. 


RETURN    FROM    ITALY.  349 

"You  have  as  yet  seen  none  of  the  pictures 
which  contain  his  characteristic  ideal  face,"  replied 
Mr.  Sumner.  "  But  there  is  work  here  in  Milan 
by  Bernardino  Luini,  who  studied  Leonardo  so  inti- 
mately that  he  caught  his  spirit  in  a  greater  degree 
than  did  any  other  of  his  followers.  Indeed, 
several  of  Luini's  pictures  have  been  attributed  to 
Leonardo  until  very  recently.  This  is  a  picture  by 
Luini  —  right  here  —  the  Madonna  of  the  Rose- 
Trellis.  The  Madonna  is  strikingly  like  Leo- 
nardo's ideal  in  the  long,  slender  nose,  the  rather 
pointed  chin,  the  dark,  flowing  hair, — and,  above 
all,  in  the  evidence  of  some  deep  thought.  If  it 
were  Leonardo's,  there  would  be,  with  all  this,  a 
faint,  subtile  smile.  See  the  treatment  of  light  and 
shade,  —  so  delicate,  and  yet  so  strong.  This  is 
also  like  Leonardo." 

After  a  few  minutes  spent  in  study  of  the  pic- 
ture, Mr.  Sumner  continued  :  "  There  is  a  singular 
mannerism  in  the  backgrounds  of  Leonardo's  pic- 
tures. It  is  the  representation  of  running  water 
between  rocks,  —  a  strange  fancy.  We  see  the 
suggestion  of  it  through  the  window  behind  Christ 
in  the  Last  Supper,  and  it  forms  the  entire  back- 
ground of  the  famous  Mona  Lisa,  in  the  Louvre. 
There  is  a  beautiful  picture  by  Luini,  The  Mar- 
riage of  St.  CatJierine,  in  the  Poldi-Pezzoli  Museum 
here  in  Milan,  to  which  we  will  go  at  once.  The 


350  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

faces  are  thoroughly  Leonardesque,  and  through 
an  open  window  in  the  background  we  clearly  see 
the  streamlet  flowing  between  rocky  shores. 

"  But  first,"  he  added,  as  they  turned  to  go  out, 
"let  us  go  into  this  corridor  where  we  shall  find 
quite  a  large  number  of  Luini's  frescoes,  which 
have  been  collected  from  the  churches  in  which 
he  painted  them.  I  think  you  will  grow  familiar 
with  Leonardo's  faces  through  study  of  Luini." 

During  the  stay  in  Milan  they  went  down  to 
Parma  for  a  day,  just  to  look  at  the  fine  examples 
of  Correggio's  works  in  the  gallery  and  churches. 
In  this  city  they  could  get  the  association  of  this 
artist  with  his  works  as  nowhere  else. 

Mr.  Sumner  told  them  that  it  was  a  good  thing 
to  give  especial  attention  to  Correggio  while  study- 
ing Leonardo,  because  there  is  a  certain  similarity, 
and  yet  a  very  wide  difference,  between  their  works. 
Both  painters  were  consummate  masters  of  the  art. 
Their  beautiful  figures,  perfect  in  drawing  and  full 
of  grace  and  life,  melt  into  soft,  rich  shadows. 
Both  loved  especially  to  paint  women,  and  smiling 
women ;  but  the  difference  between  the  smiles  is  as 
great  as  between  light  and  darkness.  Leonardo's 
are  inexplicable ;  are  wrought  from  within  by 
depths  of  feeling  we  cannot  understand.  Cor- 
reggio's only  play  about  the  lips,  and  are  as  simple 
as  childhood.  Leonardo's  whole  life  was  given  to 


MARRIAGE    OF  SAINT   CATHERINE. 


RETURN    FROM    ITALY.  351 

the  study  of  mankind's  innermost  emotions.  Cor- 
reggio  was  no  deep  student  of  human  nature. 

"  When  you  go  to  Paris  and  see  Mono.  Lisa, 
you  will  understand  me  better,"  he  said  in  conclu- 
sion. 

Delightful  weeks  among  the  Italian  lakes  and 
the  mountains  of  Switzerland  followed.  Then 
came  September,  and  it  was  time  to  turn  their 
faces  homeward.  A  week  or  two  was  spent  in 
Paris,  whose  brilliance,  fascinating  gayety,  and 
beauty  almost  bewildered  them,  and  in  whose 
great  picture-gallery,  the  Louvre,  they  reviewed 
the  art-study  of  the  year. 

Then  they  were  off  to  Havre  to  take  a  French 
steamship  home.  Mr.  Sumner  had  decided  to 
return  with  them,  and  a  little  later  in  the  fall  to 
go  back  to  Florence  to  settle  all  things  there,  — 
to  give  up  his  Italian  home  and  studio.  So  there 
was  nothing  but  joy  in  the  setting  forth. 

"  How  can  we  wait  a  whole  week ! "  exclaimed 

i 

Bettina,  as  the  two  sisters  were  again  unpacking 
the  steamer  trunks  in  their  stateroom.  "  How 
long  one  little  week  seems  when  it  comes  at  the 
end  of  a  year,  and  lies  between  us  and  home !  " 

Barbara's  thought  flew  back  to  the  like  scene 
on  the  Kaiser  Willielm  a  year  ago,  when  her 
"mind  had  been  busy  with  her  father's  parting 


352  BARBARA  S    HERITAGE. 

words,  and  her  eyes  were  very  dark  with  feeling 
as  she  spoke  :  — 

"  Have  you  thought,  Betty,  how  much  we  are 
taking  back?  —  how  much  more  than  papa  thought 
or  we  expected  even  in  our  wildest  dreams  ?  All 
this  intimate  knowledge  of  Florence,  Rome,  and 
Venice  !  All  these  memories  of  Italy,  —  and  her 
art  and  history !  " 

Then  after  a  moment  she  continued  with 
changed  voice :  "  And  our  friendship  with  How- 
ard !  —  and  the  great  gift  he  gave  by  which  we 
have  been  able  to  get  all  these  beautiful  things 
we  are  taking  home  to  the  dear  ones,  and  by 
which  life  is  so  changed  for  them  and  us !  — 
and  —  " 

"  Barbara  !  "  softly  called  Mr.  Sumner's  voice 
from  the  corridor. 

"And"  repeated  Bettina,  archly,  with  a  most 
mischievous  look  as  her  sister  hastened  from  the 
room  to  answer  the  summons. 

At  last  the  morning  came  when  the  steamship 
entered  New  York  harbor;  and  the  evening  fol- 
lowed which  saw  the  travellers  again  in  their 
homes,  — which  restored  Barbara  and  Bettina  to 
father,  mother,  brothers,  and  sisters.  There  was 
no  end  of  joy  and  smiles  and  happy  talk. 

After  a  little  time  Robert  Sumner  came,  and 
Dr.  Burnett,  taking  him  by  both  hands,  looked 


RETURN    FROM    ITALY.  353 

through  moist  eyes  into  the  face  he  loved,  and 
had  so  long  missed,  saying :  — 

"And  so  you  have  come  home  to  stay,  —  Robert, 
—  my  boy!" 

"Yes,"  in  a  glad,  ringing  voice,  —  withdrawing 
one  hand  from  the  doctor's  and  putting  it  into 
Mrs.  Burnett's  eager  clasp  —  "yes,  Barbara  and 
Malcom  have  brought  me  home.  Malcom  showed 
me  it  was  my  duty  to  come,  and  Barbara  has  made 
it  a  delight" 


Epilogue. 
Three  Years  After. 


IN  one  of  New  England's  fairest  villas,  only  a 
little  way  from  the  spot  where  we  first  found 
her,  lives  Barbara  to-day.  For  more  than  two 
years  she  has  been  the  wife  of  Robert  Sumner. 
The  faces  of  both  tell  of  happy  years,  which  have 
been  bounteous  in  blessing.  A  new  expression 
glows  in  Robert  Sumner's  eyes  ;  the  hint  of  a 
life  whose  energy  is  life-giving.  All  his  powers 
are  on  the  alert.  His  name  bids  fair  to  become 
known  far  and  wide  in  his  native  land  as  a  force 
for  good  in  art,  literature,  philanthropy,  and  public 
service.  And  in  everything  Barbara  holds  equal 
pace  with  him.  Whatever  he  undertakes,  he  goes 
to  her  young,  fresh  enthusiasm  to  be  strengthened 
for  the  endeavor  ;  he  measures  his  own  judgment 
against  her  wise,  individual  ways  of  thinking,  and 
gains  new  trust  in  himself  from  her  abiding 
confidence. 

355 


356  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

In  the  library  of  their  home,  surrounded  by 
countless  rare  souvenirs  of  Italy,  hangs  a  portrait 
of  Howard  Sinclair  given  to  Barbara  by  his 
aged  grandmother,  who  now  rests  beside  her 
darling  boy  in  beautiful  Mount  Auburn. 

Dr.  Burnett's  low,  rambling  house  has  given 
place  to  a  more  stately  one  ;  but  it  stands  behind 
the  same  tall  trees,  amidst  the  same  wide,  green 
spaces.  And  here  is  Bettina,  —  the  same  Betty, 
—  broadened  and  enriched  by  the  intervening 
years  of  gracious  living ;  still  almost  hand  in 
hand  with  her  sister  Barbara.  Together  they 
study  and  enjoy  and  sympathize ;  and  together 
they  are  striving  to  bless  as  many  lives  as  possible 
by  a  wise  use  of  Howard's  gift  to  Barbara. 

They  are  not  letting  slip  that  which  they  learned 
of  the  art  of  the  Old  World,  but  are  adding  to  it 
continually  in  anticipation  of  the  time  when  they 
will  again  be  in  its  midst.  They  believe  that 
study  of  the  old  masters'  pictures  is  a  peculiar 
source  of  culture,  and  they  delight  in  procuring 
photographs  and  rare  reproductions  for  themselves 
and  their  friends.  Their  faces  are  familiar  in  the 
art-stores  and  picture  galleries  of  Boston. 

Good  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Burnett  have  grown  more 
than  three  years  younger  by  dropping  so  many 
burdens  of  life.  They  no  longer  count  any  ways 
and  means  save  those  of  enlarging  their  own  and 


THREE  YEARS  AFTER.  357 

their  children's  lives,  and  of  making  their  home  a 
happy,  healthful  centre  from  which  all  shall  go 
forth  daily  to  help  in  the  world's  growth  and  to 
minister  to  its  needs. 

Richard,  Lois,  Margaret,  and  Bertie,  endowed 
with  all  the  best  available  helps,  are  hard  at 
work  getting  furnished  for  coming  years. 

Margery,  entering  into  a  lovely  young  woman- 
hood, still  lives  with  her  mother  and  Malcom  in 
the  grand  old  colonial  house  in  which  many  gen- 
erations of  her  ancestors  have  dwelt. 

Mrs.  Douglas  is  quite  as  happy  in  the  close 
vicinity  of  her  brother  as  she  thought  she  would 
be.  Every  day  she  rejoices  in  his  home,  in  his 
work  and  growing  fame.  Barbara  grows  dearer 
to  her  continually  as  she  realizes  what  a  blessing 
she  is  to  his  life.  Indeed,  so  wholly  natural  and 
just-the-thing-to-be-expected  does  it  now  seem  that 
her  brother  should  fall  in  love  with  Barbara,  that 
she  grows  ever  more  amazed  that  she  did  not 
think  of  it  before  it  happened ;  and,  when  she 
recalls  her  surmises  and  little  sisterly  schemes 
concerning  him  and  Lucile  Sherman,  she  wonders 
at  her  own  stupidity. 

For  Malcom  the  three  years  have  been  crowded 
with  earnest  work.  He  fully  justified  the  con- 
fidence his  mother  had  reposed  in  him  when 
•she  gave  him  the  year  abroad,  by  entering,  on 


358  BARBARA'S  HERITAGE. 

• 

his   return,   the    second    year    of   the   University 

course. 

A  few  months  ago  he  graduated  with  high 
honors,  and  is  now  just  beginning  the  study  of 
law.  When  admitted  to  the  bar  he  will  enter, 
as  youngest  partner,  the  law  firm  of  which  for 
over  thirty  years  his  grandfather  was  the  head. 

And  through  all  he  is  the  same  frank,  whole- 
some-hearted, strong-willed,  but  gentle  Malcom 
that  we  knew  in  Italy. 

The  other  day  he  entrusted  to  his  mother  and 
sister  a  precious  secret  that  must  not  yet  be 
divulged.  They  were  delighted,  but  did  not 
seem  greatly  surprised. 

Bettina  knows  the  secret. 


A     000  118  797     0 


